Between The Devil and The Deep Blue Sea
by jennde
Summary: What do you do when the thing you want most is the one thing you can't have? A FGB novella for LikeToRead22 & Gemmabobella. Canon and non-canon pairings. AH
1. Chapter 1

I wrote this for two generous and lovely ladies, LikeToRead22 and Gemmabobella, who won me in last years FGB auction.

I had a good deal of help with this story. Thanks to Lucette212 for betaing and mycrookedsmile for reading. Thank you to LikeToRead22 for her help with writing and for holding my hand. Last but never least, thank you to arfalcon, who's been holding my hand for the past few weeks as I decided to post this. She's also a kick-ass editor.

***Please read*: This story is not for the faint of heart. If you're looking for easy answers and fluff, this is not for you. You've been warned. Please don't flame me if you don't like how things turn out. **

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

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><p>I drove through the winding, isolated streets of Bellevue, Washington, thinking about the phone conversation I just had with my mother. There never seemed to be any easy answers when it came to our relationship.<p>

My father, on the other hand, was much easier for me to handle in many respects. Carlisle had certain expectations of me, and I was to live up to them. It didn't get much more complicated than that.

I knew Dad loved me, it was obvious in everything he did. When I was a child, he hugged me often, would regularly run home between shifts to tuck me into bed, and then as now, listened attentively when I wanted to talk to him about something. And while the nature of his work didn't allow us a great deal of time together when I was growing up, I always felt his presence. He never accepted anything less than perfection from me in everything I did, whether it was school, piano, or my behavior. I spent most of my childhood trying to live up to his expectations.

I didn't fault him for wanting me to succeed; it was one of the many ways he showed his love for me. It was just that sometimes I wanted to be able to make my own decisions and live my own life. As my first year of college was coming to a close, my mother was offering me the opportunity to do that. I just couldn't fathom leaving my father to rattle around all alone in our big house on the hill. Despite what I considered to be his unfair ultimatum about school and my future.

I pulled up to the house and was surprised to see Dad's car in the garage. He was rarely home at this hour.

I found him sitting at the kitchen table with Chinese take out, pensively staring out the kitchen window.

"Dad?"

He startled slightly and looked at me. "Oh, Edward. I'm glad you're home."

"Anything wrong?"

"I just need to talk to you about something. Why don't you get cleaned up and then we'll sit down and have dinner." I was sweaty after the pick up basketball game Jasper and I played on campus and I guess it showed.

"Sure. Is everything all right?" I asked nervously.

"Yes...I just..." He bit his thumb nail, clearly nervous. "It's nothing bad, just something... Go clean up and then we'll talk." A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, easing my anxiety somewhat.

I quickly showered and changed, meeting my father back in the kitchen fifteen minutes later. We sat down to eat and I waited for him to tell me what was on his mind.

He cleared his throat several times before he finally spoke. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. We talked about my social life often enough and he knew I didn't want to get serious with anyone.

I had dated girls in high school – quite a few, actually, but I never let it get too serious. If either one of us started to get too attached, I cut the relationship off quickly. Angela had been the one exception; we were together for most of senior year, and I liked her a great deal, but she broke things off with me right after graduation. She was going to college in Oregon and wanted her freedom. I didn't begrudge her, but it hurt at the time.

I'd been with my fair share of girls since I'd started at UW, but I never found myself wanting a relationship or a deep connection with any of them.

My father knew all of this – we were close and I told him almost everything. That was why I was surprised that he wanted me to meet someone I assumed would be the daughter of one of his colleagues.

"Who?" I asked warily.

"I've...met someone," he said quietly, looking nervously at me.

"Really?" I asked, unable to contain the surprise in my voice.

He laughed softly and used his fork to push his food around his plate. "Really."

I sat there waiting for more, but he just looked around the room without saying anything.

"Dad! How about a little more information," I said, smiling and turning my hand over in a circle.

"Oh, well, I met her at the hospital," he said anxiously. "She's a social worker. We've known each other for a few months."

"Wow, how did I not notice this?"

"I've been keeping a low profile. I didn't want to say anything until I knew where it was going."

"And where is it going?"

Dad actually blushed, but looked me right in the eye when he spoke. "I love her."

"I think that's great, Dad," I said honestly. I was surprised, but happy for him. He'd been alone a long time.

"There's one other thing..." he said, his eyes darting from mine. "She's a bit younger than I am."

"How much younger?" I asked, my eyebrow arching.

"She's twenty six," he said, clearing his throat and looking down.

I burst out laughing and he looked over at me, incredulous. "You were so nervous...you made it sound like she was fifteen!" I said through my laughter. "You're forty. It's not like you're an old man."

"I suppose you're right, but there are bound to be people who would judge us," he said, laughing a bit himself.

"True, but as long as you're happy, to hell with them." I looked at him curiously. "Is she the first since Mom?"

"For the most part. She's the first serious one, anyway. After your mother I was sure I wouldn't meet anyone else..." He trailed off, appearing to become lost in his thoughts. "I hope you'll like her," he continued. "She's sweet and generous and smart."

"If you love her I'm sure I will too." I wanted very much to set his mind at ease. Even if she was a beast from hell, I would suck it up and take it; I wouldn't ruin my father's chance at happiness.

"I spoke to Mom today," I said, my conversation with her still preying on my mind.

"Oh?" He cleared his throat and looked away, reminding me why I didn't like to bring her up too often. He would sometimes get this sad, faraway look in his eyes that I didn't understand.

"Yeah. She wants me to come visit this summer." I left out the other part of the conversation I'd had with her. There was no use upsetting him.

"That's fine," he said. "Use your money to book the ticket to Chicago and I'll reimburse you." Dad insisted I not work through college, and replenished my bank account periodically. I had inherited a good deal of money from my grandparents, but that wouldn't be available until I graduated from college or reached twenty-one, whichever came first.

"I'd like to get a part time job this summer," I said. "Jasper's uncle might have something for me a few days a week."

"Landscaping? What about your hands?"

"It'll be fine. I'll wear gloves. It shouldn't affect my playing."

He nodded, but seemed distracted. "That's fine. Just for the summer though, okay?"

"Sure."

His cell phone rang as we were cleaning up and he looked at the display before murmuring "the hospital" to me.

"Carlisle Cullen," he answered.

He listened for a few moments before hanging up and looking at me. "I have to go. Can you be here for dinner on Friday? I'd like you to meet her."

"Sure, Dad."

He hugged me tightly before he left. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For understanding. For not giving me a hard time. You're a good son. I love you."

"I love you too."

I didn't see much of Dad for the rest of the week, as was usual for us. I was at school during the day and spent most of my time on my own when I was home, which suited me just fine. It was as it had always been.

I came straight home from classes on Friday; Dad had the night off and was cooking dinner. He wasn't particularly adept in the kitchen, but he tried, so I decided to see if I could be of help. I'd started preparing my own meals in my early teens and considered myself a decent cook.

"What're you making?" I asked, walking into the kitchen, freshly showered and shaved. I wanted to make a good impression for Dad – if he was as serious about her as he made out, I didn't want her running for the hills because she had to deal with an asshole teenager.

"Chicken parm with ziti," he said, standing over a pot of sauce, wooden spoon in hand. "She likes Italian. There's also salad, and pastry for dessert."

"What can I do?" I asked, rubbing my hands together.

Dad smiled at me and gestured me over with the spoon. "Taste this and make sure it's not disgusting, then you can make the garlic bread."

The sauce was good, if a bit bland, so we added some salt and oregano and then I set about making the bread.

Dad was running around the kitchen, checking and rechecking the sauce, opening and closing the oven door, then running to the dining room to straighten the silver ware, and back again.

"Nervous?" I asked, laughing at his antics.

He stopped mid-stoop, the oven door half-way open, and turned to me. "Yeah," he said, smiling and closing the oven door. "I guess I am. I just want you to like each other." I could see real anxiety on his face and I instantly felt guilty for laughing at him.

"It's going to be fine, Dad. You'll see."

"I know, you're right. She's wonderful, you're wonderful, what could go wrong?"

Just then the doorbell rang and my father rubbed his hand nervously up and down his thighs, looking at me. I motioned for him to go ahead of me and open the door. He walked past me and I heard him open the door, followed by murmured voices.

After I thought enough time had passed for their hello kiss to be out of the way, I walked into the foyer

But I still caught my father kissing his girlfriend on the mouth before he moved away, giving me a glimpse of the first woman who had sparked his interest in almost nineteen years.

"Edward, this is Bella. Bella, this is my son, Edward."

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><p><strong>Let me reiterate my warning from the opening an. If you're sticking with me, thank you. If not, you might like **_**Dear Mr. Masen**_**. It's full of fluffy goodness. Link in my profile.**

**This story will be eleven short chapters. I'll update twice weekly – likely Tuesday and Friday – until it's finished.**

**Thank you for reading.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. **

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><p>I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't the beautiful woman standing next to my father, tucking a strand of her long brown hair behind her ear. She looked younger than twenty-six, though my dad didn't look a day over thirty, so I suppose it was a wash.<p>

"It's nice to finally meet you, Edward," Bella said, her voice strong and sure and almost musical.

I stuck out my hand to her and she took it, gripping it firmly. The feel of her hand in mine was nice; it was soft and cool and though it made me feel silly, it also gave me butterflies in my stomach.

"Well," my father said, looking pointedly at our still clasped hands. "Why don't we go inside?"

I let go of her hand and shook my head. I smiled at her and mouthed "sorry," to which she smiled and waved a hand in front of her face in dismissal.

I liked her immediately.

My dad nervously ushered Bella into the living room, where she sat comfortably and accepted his offer of a glass of wine. When he brought it back he handed it to her and then turned to me. "Edward, would you mind showing Bella around while I finish dinner?"

"Of course." I smiled at Bella and gestured for her to follow me.

She smiled back prettily as I led her around the house, showing her the dining room, kitchen, the first floor powder room, and finally my music room.

"Wow," she said, running her fingers over the top of my grand piano. "This is beautiful. Is it yours?"

I regarded her quietly, wondering what, exactly, my father told her about me. "It is," I replied cautiously, walking over to the piano and closer to Bella. She smelled really nice, like flowers and vanilla. The butterflies were back in full force and I had an almost overwhelming desire to touch her skin. She was wearing a long dress with thin straps and her shoulders were bare. They looked so soft.

"Edward?"

My head shot up and I blushed at being caught staring, even if it was just at something as innocent as her shoulder. "Sorry, did you say something?"

She bit her lip and lowered her eyes, clearly indicating that I was making her uncomfortable. I was behaving like a horny teenager and it was time to get these urges under control. I cleared my throat, smiled at her, and put my hands in my jeans pockets.

"I asked if you would play for me sometime."

"I'd be happy to," I said, blushing slightly. I was good, but playing in front of people still made me nervous. "But for now I think I better show you the rest of the house. I'm sure dinner will be ready soon." I didn't want to wind up making a bad impression and obviously needed my father as a buffer.

Her smile fell just a little as I held the door to the music room open and led her out. I managed to show her the rest of the house without doing anything stupid or inappropriate, and we eventually wound up in the kitchen.

"Dinner's ready," my father announced.

We went into the dining room and sat down, my father at the head of the table and Bella and I on either side of him and across from each other. The food was good and Dad seemed so proud of himself – I was really happy for him. I couldn't remember the last time he tried to cook.

But every time I looked over at Bella those damn butterflies would start fluttering in my stomach. When my stomach wasn't jumping, I felt restless and tense and I found it difficult to eat.

_This was turning out well._

"Don't you like it?" my father asked as I pushed the ziti around my plate.

I looked up at him and plastered a smile on my face. "Yeah, it's really good. I just ate a big lunch," I lied.

My father stared at me for a few moments before nodding and turning back to his food. I was an eighteen year old boy: I was always hungry.

"So, Edward. The semester is over soon, right?" Bella asked me.

My eyes met hers briefly before my gaze shifted. "Yeah, in just about six weeks or so."

"Are you staying at UW?" she asked.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" My heart started to pound and my hand trembled slightly; I had been avoiding thinking about the unfairness of my father's ultimatum all year. After my first year, he was unwilling to pay for me to continue in UW's music program.

"I just thought that you might..." She looked at me with sympathetic eyes, making me feel like a child. Dad had obviously told her about our pseudo-agreement, but for some reason I was surprised to realize that he talked to her about me. Though I shouldn't have been – she was his girlfriend, after all.

I looked quickly at my father and then down at my plate, not knowing what to say. I took a deep breath to calm my nerves and then cleared my throat. I felt foolish and for some reason, it made me angry that Bella might see me as a child who needed his father's permission to make such a major life decision.

There was silence at the table, eventually broken by Bella's soft voice.

"I'm sorry I brought it up." I looked up and felt worse when I saw the chastened expression on her face.

"It's okay," my father said, patting her hand.

I wasn't sure why, but seeing him touch her like that made me even angrier. She was apologizing unnecessarily and he was comforting her, yet I was the one who was being forced into doing something I didn't want to do.

"Edward –"

"Just...don't, Dad," I said through clenched teeth, holding up my hand. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, trying to keep my emotions under control. Now wasn't the time.

"So, Bella," I said, forcing a smile onto my face. "Dad tells me you're a social worker. That must be very rewarding."

My interest sounded feigned, and I hated that she would think I didn't really care, but she graciously smiled at me and answered my question.

"It is. There are some difficult situations to deal with, but successfully getting a child out of a bad home and putting them in a good one is really an amazing feeling. I like making a difference."

There was something there, something in her face and her demeanor that made me want to probe further, but my father interrupted before I could.

"Whatever happened with the Parsons girl?" he asked.

I looked over at Bella, who had a sad expression on her face. "We found something temporary for her, but she's still so young and the home is just that, temporary. I wish we could find her something more permanent."

"You will," my father assured her with a small smile.

Their interaction spoke of a certain intimacy and caring that in that moment, I envied. I had been around couples in love since Angela and I broke up, but somehow seeing it here and now made me miss it.

We spent the rest of dinner making idle chit chat until it was time to clear the table.

Bella excused herself to use the bathroom, leaving Dad and I alone in the kitchen.

"Well?" he asked nervously.

"She's great. I'm happy for you." I had a smile on my face, but I knew it wasn't reaching my eyes. I didn't feel happy. I felt anxious and uneasy and I needed to get out of the house.

Dad let out a long breath and put a hand on my shoulder. "Thank you for tonight, you were...well, thank you, you're a good son."

I nodded but said nothing. We needed to talk but I didn't want to start a conversation we couldn't finish.

"Listen, would you mind..." he began. "I'd like to ask Bella to spend the night. But if you're uncomfortable, I won't. This is your house too after all and I would never – "

"Dad!" I interrupted. "It's fine, don't worry about it." My insides were churning but I knew this was the right thing to say. He loved her and she probably loved him and that's what people in love did. They slept together.

"I'm going to leave now if that's all right." I made a show of asking permission to go out, but he hadn't asked me where I was going since I was fourteen. That was the year he caught me coming home after ten o'clock on a school night and tried to ground me and give me a curfew. I laughed at him and dared him to try to enforce it from his office at the hospital. After an evening of yelling and then talking, he conceded that it would be difficult for him to enforce his new rules, so we agreed that as long as my grades were good and I kept up with my piano lessons, he would leave me alone. And since that time, I hadn't once given him a reason to regret trusting me.

"You're not staying for dessert?" he asked, sounding disappointed.

"Nah." I thought about calling Jasper but suddenly remembered that Angela was in town for spring break. "You and Bella enjoy. I'm sure you've had enough of me intruding on your date."

"I wanted you here," he said sincerely. He looked at his watch then back at me and smiled. "Go have fun. And make sure you say goodbye to Bella."

"You're leaving?"

I turned to Bella, who was standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

"Yeah," I answered her, striding over and sticking my hand out, willing the butterflies to calm the fuck down. "It was very nice to meet you."

"You too," she said, grasping my hand firmly and smiling at me.

I released her hand quickly and grabbed my keys off the table in the foyer on my way out.

"Not too late, Edward!" my father called. He was trying to impress his girlfriend with his parenting skills and it made me angry. He couldn't treat me like an adult when it was convenient for him and he wanted to be at the hospital all the time, but then like a child when his girlfriend was around.

I left without answering him.

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><p>Thanks for reading.<p>

That was short, I know. Next (longer) update on Friday.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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><p>I called Angela on the way to my car. She told me her parents were away for the weekend and she had no plans for the night, so I headed over to her place.<p>

I had been hurt after we broke up, but some time apart had given me perspective, and I realized she was right to break up with me. Despite all my protestations, I never _really_ committed to her, and I think she knew that. She knew there was better for her out there, someone who would love her completely and never hold back, and I couldn't blame her for ditching me.

I told her this when she was home for Christmas break and she didn't argue with me.

I wished I could meet a girl I was interested in, whose hand I wanted to hold and who I would be so engrossed in conversation with that I would lose all track of time. But no one I met seemed to have the same interests I did. I had no desire to attend in keggers and frat parties. I didn't care for pep rallies and though I loved to play sports, I didn't enjoy the jock mentality that was prevalent at school.

In short, when I was around most people my age, male or female, I felt like I was much older than my eighteen years, though part of me wished I wasn't. I wanted to go back and be a kid again. I wanted to be irresponsible and only worry about myself and what I wanted. Just once.

When Angela greeted me at the door and her pink lips turned up into a smile, I grabbed her in a tight hug. She hugged me back and I felt some of the tension I had been feeling all night leave my body.

We separated and she looked at me, a question in her eyes. I just sighed and ran my hand through my hair, having no explanation for what I was feeling. She silently took my face in her hands and kissed me softly on the lips. I was surprised, but I returned her kiss gratefully. We continued like that for a minute before her mouth opened and her tongue lightly touched mine. Suddenly I was tense again, but for wholly different reasons.

I picked her up, wrapping her long legs around me. She moaned softly into my mouth and I was hard instantly; I could feel her heat against me as I carried her to her room, my mouth never leaving hers.

We were naked, limbs entangled, before I knew it. I closed my eyes as I poised to enter her, but the image that flashed through my mind surprised the hell out of me, every muscle in my body tightening up. I opened my eyes quickly, looking at the sweet girl under me, trying to shake it off. Everything in my body was still tense and tight, so I entered her quickly, groaning in relief. She felt good; warm and familiar.

We still hadn't spoken, but the room was filled with the sounds of our fucking. Skin on skin, the banging of the headboard against the wall, my moans and her whimpers, and finally, Angela calling my name as she came, followed by my groan into her neck as I released into her.

I collapsed on top of her, kissing her neck softly.

I rolled away and looked over at her pretty face and her sweaty, glistening body and wondered briefly if I had made the right decision in letting her go so easily. She was lovely and kind and knew me so well that I rarely had to explain myself to her. The sex was still good and I had deep feelings for her.

But I knew in my heart, no matter the protests my mind or my body might give, that we were ultimately wrong for each other. We had been together for a year and I'd never really given her my heart. She deserved someone better than me; someone who would love her completely.

"What's wrong?" Angela asked. "You don't seem like yourself."

I lay next to her on my back and closed my eyes, running a hand through my hair. "I don't know," I whispered. "I just feel tense."

"Anything you want to talk about?" she asked, turning her head to face me.

I let out a breath and shook my head. "It's just...everything. I feel unsettled. There's school, my mom, my dad – did you know he had a girlfriend?" I asked, turning to face her and wondering if the town gossip had reached her yet.

"No," she said, a hint of surprise in her voice. "Really? Have you met her?"

"Yeah, just tonight."

"And?"

"And," I said, shrugging my shoulders. "She's nice enough, I guess. She's younger than he is. But they seem happy."

"So why are you so miserable?"

"I'm not. Not really. He told her about the medical school shit as if it was a done deal. It pissed me off."

"He hasn't given up on that yet?"

"Apparently not."

"Do you really think he'll stop paying unless you drop music?"

"I know he will."

"Have you tried talking to him?"

"I have, you know this. A million fucking times. I'm sick of it already. I just want – fuck!"

When I didn't elaborate, she turned on her side, propped up on her elbow, and splayed her hand out on my bare chest. "What?"

"My mom wants me to come live with her. I would probably have to take out loans, but I could go to Northwestern, study music, and live with her."

"You never talked about her much. Didn't she move to Chicago before we started dating?"

"Yeah," I said, turning my head to her and then back, staring up at the ceiling. "She had me when she was seventeen and her parents wanted her to put me up for adoption. But my father wouldn't hear of it, so he took me."

"And your mom?"

I turned on my side to face her fully. "Her parents took her away to live in New Hampshire. That's where my grandmother was from. According to my dad, they loved each other but she was still in high school and he was only twenty-one and just starting medical school, now with a child to raise. He couldn't do that and fight for my mother too, so her let her go."

"But she came back eventually?"

"Yeah. I've told you about my Gran?"

"A little," she said, running a hand across my cheek. "But nothing more than that you lived with her when you were a baby."

I nodded my head and continued. "Dad had a lot to handle, so when he took me home, we moved in with his parents. I don't remember a whole lot about them, and what I do recall is fuzzy, but I remember that they loved me. Grandpa was the one who taught me to love baseball, and Gran would read to me every night before bed and she baked the most delicious cookies." I smiled at my memories. "I just remember feeling very loved and safe and happy."

"What happened?" she asked softly.

"They died when I was seven. Killed by a drunk driver when they were coming home from a movie." I didn't really ever talk about them, but I was feeling emotionally raw and the information just seemed to be tumbling out of me. "Mom came back to Washington after the funeral, but we didn't exactly have a close relationship."

"Is that why she wants you to come live with her now? To make up for lost time?"

"I don't know," I said, though I was sure that was part of it. My mind was in turmoil and I just wanted to forget for a little while. So I kissed her and led her to lie on her back, my lips traveling down her body until I reached the apex of her thighs.

There was no better distraction than a beautiful girl writhing on a bed, calling out my name.

x-x

I got home later than I wanted to and saw a light on in the house, which was normal; Dad was often up late working on patient files. Except the light wasn't coming from his office.

I walked in the house and followed the light to the kitchen. Finding something I didn't expect.

Bella was sitting at the kitchen table, a cup in front of her with a little string hanging off the side, staring out the widow into the backyard. She didn't look happy or sad; she looked pensive, and I wondered if something was troubling her.

I didn't know if I should make my presence known or just go up to my room, but she saw me before I could make the decision.

"Oh," she said. "Hi...um, I was just having a cup of tea." She twisted her fingers together and blushed and I hated that I might have made her uncomfortable.

"That's fine," I said, smiling to try to put her at ease, even though I wasn't relaxed at all and my stomach was in knots. All of the tension I released, emotional and physical, when I was with Angela seemed to be back with a vengeance. "I just wanted to grab a water."

"Okay," she said as I made my way to the fridge. "So...did you have fun?"

"Fun?"

"Yeah, you were out, did you have fun?"

"Oh, yeah, it was fine," I said, feeling a bit of heat in my cheeks remembering what, exactly, I had been doing, and thankful that my head was in the fridge.

"Just 'fine'? That doesn't sound like much fun at all," she said, laughing softly. The sound was musical and happy and my stomach muscles tightened in response.

"I was with a girl," I said, closing the fridge and turning to face her.

Her smile faded but she hid it quickly by taking a sip of her tea. She set the cup down and her smile was back, but not as radiant as before.

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

"No, I don't. This wasn't a date," I said, leaning against the counter and taking a sip of my water with what I knew was a smug smile on my face. "I don't really date so much as spend time with girls." I wasn't really as much of an asshole as I was coming off as, and I wasn't sure why I wanted her to think I was.

"Oh," she said again, her smile fading completely.

I'd been nothing different than what she and my father were probably doing earlier in the evening, so I wasn't sure exactly what her problem was. Maybe she thought people my age shouldn't be having sex. Maybe she thought I wasn't careful. Not that it was any of her business.

"It's late," I said, changing the subject. "Can't you sleep?"

"No," she said, shaking her head and wrapping her hands around her tea mug. "You would think with the way I grew up, I would be used to sleeping in strange places."

"What do you mean?" I asked softly, sitting down across from her at the table, interested in hearing more about her.

"Oh, um," she said, sounding surprised. "My father died when I was two. He was shot in the line. My mother remarried and decided that her new husband was more important than me. So I spent years in and out of foster homes, and haven't seen her since the day she gave me up."

My stomach suddenly felt sick and I clenched my jaw and took a deep breath, wondering about a mother who would abandon her child without a second thought.

"It's okay, you know. I found a good family when I was twelve. I was lucky," she said, obviously noticing the pained and angry expression on my face.

I nodded my head and felt some of the tension leave my body. "Maybe that's why you have trouble sleeping in strange places."

"What do you mean?" she asked, her brow furrowed.

"Well," I said, rubbing the back of my neck. "It must have been hard to move from place to place, sleeping in a new bed, a new room, a new house. It takes a while to get comfortable in a new space, no matter how many times you do it. Moving around had to be the hardest part of your childhood and maybe it's just a reminder of that."

"Huh, I never thought about it that way. I'm pretty much a homebody, so I don't spend too many nights away from home. But I always assumed that it would be easy for me, especially considering how many times I had to do it."

"Why did you move around so much? Did something happen...at the foster homes?" I asked softly, my mind wandering to the worst possible scenarios. I swallowed thickly and looked up at her, but here eyes were soft and there was a small smile on her face.

"No. There were some bad ones, believe me, but it was nothing as bad as you're thinking. I just never felt like I fit anywhere. I was difficult and no one wanted to take the time to figure out why." She shrugged and looked down at her tea cup.

"I never had two parents at home, but I guess I was fortunate in a lot of ways. They both wanted me, at least." I looked at her quickly and felt my face redden. "Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way. I just mean–"

"It's okay," she said, holding up a hand and smiling. "I know what you meant." She shrugged her shoulders again. "It was a long time ago and like I said, I found a nice family. They're great, actually, especially my sister."

"I'm glad it worked out for you," I said sincerely. "Do they live here in Washington?"

"Yeah, I grew up in Arizona, and we moved to Seattle when I was fifteen. I lived in Forks for about two years after college. Then there was an opening for a social worker at the hospital here and a change of pace was exactly what I needed at the time."

I wanted to ask her what happened to drive her out of Forks, and whose ass I needed to kick for that utterly devastated look on her face, but I didn't.

"I can see why you became a social worker," I said instead.

"Yeah, well I guess I can sympathize with these children better than most."

"Don't you find it...difficult sometimes?" I asked, running a hand through my hair and meeting her gaze.

"Sometimes," she said softly. "There are those times when no matter what I do, a child is headed down the wrong path, sometimes of their own making. And I know if they would just give me the chance, I could help them."

"Not to sound clichéd, but you can't help anyone who doesn't want to be helped."

"I know," she said softly.

"And sometimes, if you push someone in one direction, they'll naturally go the other way."

She looked at me, her head tilted to the side, her brow furrowed. She opened her mouth to say something, but I spoke before she could.

"It's late. I'm going to go up to bed," I said, forcing a smile on my face.

"Oh, okay," she said, suddenly sounding unsure of herself.

I left her and went to bed but didn't sleep for a long time.

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><p><strong>Please, let's assume safe sexproper birth control for any and all lemons in this story. It's simply left unsaid because it's not an important aspect to the story and it breaks up my flow.**

**Next update on Tuesday.**

**Thanks for reading.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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><p>Bella was around a lot over the next few weeks, but with classes winding down and finals looming, I only saw her and my father in passing. Still, when I did see her, my face would always warm up and my stomach would tie in knots. I wasn't sure why that was, but it was both disturbing and oddly pleasant. Which just confused me and made me want to simultaneously avoid her and never leave her presence. The situation was strange and uncomfortable, so I avoided it when I could.<p>

By the time classes were over for the year, I was seriously considering the trip to Chicago. It would be a welcome respite from having to be constantly on guard for Bella's presence. It wasn't that I didn't like her. I just felt so strange around her and whenever we ran into each other, she always wanted to talk. But no matter how interesting the conversation, I didn't think she wanted to get to know me because she was interested in me or my life; I was sure it was because I was my father's son.

My new job with Jasper's uncle helped – he had quite a bit of work and often took us out for a quick dinner at the end of the day. When I wasn't working I was playing piano, either at school or locked in my music room at home, where I was usually left alone.

I hadn't mentioned my potential trip to Chicago to Dad again since the night he told me about Bella. I didn't see a point since I was still waffling about whether I would go or not. Then he unknowingly made the decision for me.

"How do you feel about Bella?" he asked over my birthday dinner in June. We had a tradition of spending my birthday together; no matter where my father was working or what he was doing, he took the night off and he usually took me out to dinner. When I was younger it was usually for pizza or burgers, but as I got older we branched out and went to nicer restaurants. This year, I'd worked all day and just wanted take out sushi at home.

"What do you mean?" I asked, swallowing loudly.

"Well," he began, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck. "I want to...I was thinking of proposing."

"Oh," I said, my throat suddenly dry and my thoughts in turmoil. I wanted him to be happy. I wanted her to be happy. But I avoided thinking about them together as often as I could.

"Listen, Edward," my father said, clearly nervous. "If you're uncomfortable having her here, I can wait."

I looked down, realizing quickly what he meant by "having her here." She would be living here with us. I knew they spent the night together a few times a week, but this would make our living situation, and their relationship, permanent. "No, it's nothing like that. I'm just surprised," I said quickly, wanting to put his mind at ease, even if mine was running a mile a minute.

"Do you like her? You don't seem to be around much when she's here."

"I like her just fine. Jasper's uncle has more work than he thought he would and besides, I thought you could use some privacy."

"Thank you for that, but it's unnecessary. This is your home too and you shouldn't feel like you have to leave."

"When?"

"When what?"

"When are you proposing?" I asked, rolling my eyes. "When are you getting married?"

"I bought the ring already, so...soon? I was thinking of taking some time off and maybe getting married on an island somewhere and then giving her an extended honeymoon."

"That sounds good," I said with more enthusiasm than I felt.

"I'd like you to come with us – be my best man," my father said, his voice and demeanor so sincere it made my chest ache.

I rubbed it lightly and smiled at him, wanting very badly to feel happy for him, but not succeeding. "You don't really want me on your honeymoon, do you?"

"Well, for the ceremony, at least, and maybe a few days afterward," he replied. "Let's see, okay?"

I nodded and walked away, my head hurting and my stomach in knots.

**x-x**

I successfully avoided Bella and all wedding talk until the beginning of July. I was constantly out of the house, either at work or out with Jasper, or over at UW practicing. But then on the fourth, which fell on a Saturday, I got sick.

"We're going to Aruba in August and I want you to come with us. I still need a best man," my father said that afternoon, looking at my red nose and sweaty forehead with concern.

Part of me wanted to go. I wanted to be there for my father, but I couldn't torture myself and I needed to come up with an excuse. Fast.

"When are you going?" I said, sniffing and wiping my nose with a tissue.

"I thought the beginning of August would be good so you wouldn't miss any school and Bella and I could take a couple of weeks for our honeymoon. It took some doing, but I already got us both the time off from the hospital."

"I told Mom I'd go to Chicago and visit her in August," I said with mock sadness. I just hoped Mom could have me on those dates.

"Oh, well maybe I could change it," he said, sounding sad, which made me feel like an absolute heel. "When were you thinking of going?"

"Don't change your wedding date. It's for you and Bella, not me. Just go. Take pictures." I knew I was rushing him through the conversation, but I didn't want to talk about it anymore, especially when I wasn't feeling well.

"I just got a call about one of my patients and have to run to the hospital. Are you going out?"

"I was going to, but I'm feeling like shit so I think I'm just going to stay home."

"Do you need anything before I go?" he asked me, putting his hand to my forehead.

"No, thanks."

"You have a fever, take a couple of Advil and get some rest," he said, grabbing his keys and walking toward the front door. "I'll see you tomorrow. Call me if you need anything or if you start to feel any worse."

After he left, I sat heavily on the couch and put the television on, wishing rather childishly that my father had stayed home. I wanted a glass of juice or some soup but didn't feel well enough to get it myself. With thoughts of cool, soft hands resting on my forehead, I fell into a restless, fevered sleep.

I woke with the television still on and insistent knocking on the front door.

Bleary eyed, I stumbled to the door and opened it to find a very surprised looking Bella on the other side.

"Hi," she said, walking into the foyer, her face very quickly going from surprised to worried. "Are you all right?"

"Um...yeah," I said, my fever soaked brain not forming coherent thoughts. I started back toward the couch; my legs were achy and I couldn't stand anymore. "Dad's not here. He had to go to the hospital."

"Oh, we had plans," she said, biting her lip.

_Christ, she's so pretty when she does that._

I was staring, but I couldn't seem to make myself stop. My brain felt slow and my limbs were like lead.

"Edward?"

"Huh?"

"I asked you if you knew when he left."

"Oh, um...I was sleeping. I don't know."

Bella pulled out her cell phone. "Damn it. I bet he tried to call. My battery died again. I'm always forgetting to charge this thing."

I rested my head in my hands and groaned. Everything hurt.

"Hey," she said softly. I looked up and she was crouching next to me, her hand resting on my knee. She was so close I could smell her pretty perfume. "Are you really all right?"

"Um...no, I guess not."

"You look terrible," she said. "Have you taken anything?"

"No. Dad told me to take Advil, but I forgot."

"Here," she said, pushing my shoulder lightly. "Lie down and I'll get it for you."

I nodded dumbly and lay down, wishing I had a blanket and that she would touch me again.

Bella was back a minute later with two brown pills and a glass of orange juice. I dutifully swallowed the pills and closed my eyes, laying back down, exhausted.

I felt a soft blanket being draped gently over me and then a cool hand touched my forehead before moving to gently stroke my hair.

"That feels so good," I mumbled.

I fell into a deep sleep and woke up much later to a dark living room. I sat up, groaning and wincing at my cramped and sore muscles. I ran my hand through my hair and remembered Bella being here. Or had I dreamed it?

I glanced over and found her in one of the armchairs, curled up into a ball and sleeping. This was the first time I had seen her asleep; she looked pretty and peaceful and I didn't want to wake her, but as if she knew I was staring, her eyes suddenly opened.

She blinked a few times and smiled tentatively at me. "How do you feel?"

"Okay. Why are you still here?" I asked, immediately regretting the rudeness of my question.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay. I spoke to Carlisle and he won't be home until morning, and I didn't want you to be alone," she said softly, her cheeks turning pink.

"Thank you. But it's a holiday, don't you have something you'd rather be doing than baby sitting me?" My face was warm, but I didn't think it was from the fever anymore. I was an adult and she was my father's girlfriend. I didn't need her mothering me.

"I don't feel like I'm babysitting," she said, her brow furrowing. "I don't like being alone when I'm sick and I just thought...forget it. I'll just go." She uncurled herself from the chair and stood, an embarrassed look on her face.

"No. Please don't," I said before I could think about it, the thought of her actually leaving making me unhappy.

She nodded and looked down, tucking her hair behind her ear. I wanted to do something to make her feel more comfortable. "I'm glad you're here. Thank you," I said softly, smiling at her. And I _was_ glad that she was with me.

She smiled back tentatively and walked over to where I was sitting on the couch. "Are you feeling any better?"

"A little," I said, nodding my head.

"Do you want something to eat? I can make you some soup."

"Sure, okay. I'm just going to go clean up." I was sweaty from the fever and needed a shower, especially if I was going to be around Bella.

I showered, dressed and went back downstairs, finding Bella in the kitchen ladling soup into a bowl.

"Hey," I said, standing in the doorway, my hands deep in my jeans pockets. I suddenly felt very shy and unsure.

"Come and sit," she said, placing the bowl on the table. She had it set for two, complete with glasses of iced tea, grilled cheese sandwiches and bowls of hot chicken soup.

"Wow," I said softly. "Thanks."

I started eating my meal and was immediately warmed. This was nice. I had been seeing to my own needs for so long and it was a welcome change to have someone take care of me for once.

"This is delicious," I said between bites. "Thank you."

"It's okay," she said, shrugging. "I've lived alone for a while, and I usually enjoy it. Except when I'm not feeling well."

I nodded. "I'm pretty self-sufficient, but I found myself wishing for some company before you showed up."

"I'm glad I stayed then. Did you...didn't Carlisle take care of you when you were sick? When you were younger, I mean?"

"In his way, I suppose," I said, shrugging and taking a bite of my sandwich and chewing thoughtfully. I swallowed and continued. "He worked a lot and my mom wasn't able to be around very much. I mostly took care of myself."

"Oh."

"It's okay. He was a good father. He was alone and he did what he could. He hired nannies after my grandparents died, but none of them lasted long."

"Why? Were you a bratty kid?" she asked, smiling and taking a bite of her sandwich.

"A little, I guess," I replied, smiling back at her. "I don't think we had anyone with us for more than a few moths before Mrs. Cope."

"And how long did she last?"

"About a year. When I was about eleven, I think. She didn't put up with my brooding pre-teen bullshit and knew how to put me in my place."

"Why did she leave? Did you finally push her over the edge?" she asked.

I looked at my soup bowl and cleared my throat. "She had a heart attack and died."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"It's okay. It was a long time ago," I said, shrugging my shoulders and taking a deep breath. Ever since Bella had been around I felt restless and like my emotions were right on the surface, waiting to be let out. It wasn't a feeling I was comfortable with, but I wasn't exactly sure what to do about it either.

"You don't seem nineteen," she said softly, her gaze falling to the table.

"Is my immaturity showing?" I asked, smiling at her even though she wasn't looking at me.

"No, the opposite, actually," she whispered, making my stomach feel funny.

"Oh," I said, staring at her with wide eyes.

"It's just...I don't know. You seem more mature than most men I know who are older than you."

"Try growing up with my father and see how you turn out," I said, sounding more bitter than I intended.

"Was it hard? Growing up with Carlisle? When he was around, I mean."

"No, not hard. He pushed me and he had certain expectations. But it wasn't malicious. He wanted what he thought was best for me. He still does."

"It's funny...I grew up with no one caring until I was almost in my teens. At the time, I would have given almost anything to have expectations put on me. To have someone care that much." Her tone was wistful and it made my chest ache to hear that she felt like no one cared.

"Isn't that why you do what you do? So a child knows someone cares? So they don't have to feel the way you did?"

I looked up just in time to see her quickly wipe a tear from her cheek.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, feeling that awful ache in my chest intensify.

"Don't be. I like talking to you," she said, a small smile on her face. "You make me feel..."

She trailed off and shook her head, leaving her thought hanging, unarticulated.

We finished the rest of our meal in comfortable silence and as we were clearing the dishes, we heard loud explosions from outside.

"Oh, I guess the fireworks are starting," Bella mentioned.

"We can probably see them from the backyard. Would you like to go outside?"

"Yes," she said, clearly excited.

"Hang on," I said, walking to the front hall closet. I grabbed a blanket and ushered her outside, spreading it across the grass.

I sat down with my legs out, resting on my elbows and looking up at the sky. The night was warm, but there was a soft breeze so it wasn't uncomfortable.

She sat next to me, close enough that I could feel her warmth.

It made me shiver.

We looked up into the sky and I pointed out where the fireworks would appear.

I turned to her just as she did the same and our faces were barely inches apart. Before I could prevent it, my eyes fell to her pretty pink lips as her sweet breath washed over me. I heard her sharp intake of breath and then moved my eyes back up to hers. I thought I saw it, for just a second; the desire I had for her that was coursing through my body was reflected back at me. But as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, and I wasn't sure if I actually saw it at all.

My heart clenched for just a moment and my desire for her was making my jeans uncomfortably tight. I looked back out into the sky, embarrassed that I had been caught gazing at her that way, but wanting her more than I realized. I almost ached to reach out and touch her.

I heard her sigh softly, but she didn't say anything. Just then the fireworks appeared in the sky and we watched in silence.

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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><p>We parted awkwardly after the firework display. I practically ran up to my room after it was over, leaving her to see herself out. I hadn't meant to be rude, but being around her when my resistance was so low wasn't a good idea. I saw her leave the house from my bedroom window, her old, beat up Saturn grumbling out of our driveway and down the quiet street.<p>

I didn't mention anything about Bella being at the house to my father and he never brought it up, so I assumed Bella didn't either. That made me feel a little bad – I rarely kept anything from my father. But it also sent a bit of a thrill through me that she and I shared a secret.

I could no longer deny my attraction to Bella. Even when I wasn't in her presence, my mind would inevitably wander to her. To her big eyes and her soft brown hair, to the way her sweet breath washed over me as we sat on the blanket during the fireworks, and the way her arm brushed mine, sending sparks flying up my arm and a thrill through my body. More and more it was her face that I saw when I touched myself, and I hadn't been with Angela, or anyone else, since the night Dad first brought Bella home. My mind wanted to articulate the reason why, but I never allowed it to. I knew it would be more than I could handle.

She was about to become my father's wife. The way I felt about her was wrong, but I didn't know what to do about it. I was playing a waiting game, hoping that my interest would wane or that I would meet someone else. Because there was no way I could ever act on my attraction to her.

Though she was never far from my thoughts, I didn't see Bella again for a few weeks, much to my disappointment – and my relief. But when I did, it was as if my attraction to her only intensified.

Jasper and I were playing basketball in the backyard; we were extremely competitive with each other and played hard. It was hot so we were stripped down to just shorts, but were still sweating as we pushed each other around the court.

"You're a fucking pussy, Cullen," Jasper said, pushing back into me and then turning before shooting the ball so it went sailing over my head and into the basket.

"Fuck you. Are you going to play or talk shit?" I shot back, retrieving the rebound and dribbling the ball in front of him.

"Both," he said, smirking at me. I took advantage of his over-confidence and sent the ball into the basket from the three-point line, taking the lead.

"Maybe you should just play instead," I said, blocking his next shot and scoring on the rebound.

"That's game," I said smugly.

"Fuck," Jasper shouted. Right then, the back door to the house slid open and Bella poked her head out.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," she said. "But the front door was open."

"That's okay," I said, breathing heavily and wiping my face with my discarded t-shirt. "Dad's not home, as far as I know. Haven't seen him all day."

She didn't answer me but was looking at me in a way that made my stomach muscles clench tightly. Her mouth was slightly open and her breath seemed to be shallow. When our eyes met I could almost feel a physical pulse between us and I took an involuntary step toward her before Jasper interrupted me.

"I'm Jasper," he said, walking toward Bella and sticking his hand out. "Sorry to meet you this way."

"Oh," she said, dragging her eyes from mine and shaking her head, grasping Jasper's hand in hers. "That's all right, I didn't mean to interrupt your game. I'm Bella, by the way."

The spell broken, I dragged my t-shirt over my head and took a deep breath, willing my body to stop reacting to her.

"Nice to meet you, and don't worry about interrupting," Jasper said, motioning to me. "Golden boy here just whooped my ass."

"Fuck you," I said, a small smile on my face. I hated it when he called me that, but he had been since we were kids. He came from a blue collar background and had to hold a job since he was old enough to work. The fact that my father supported me through high school and now college had been a point of contention in our friendship many times in the past; I often told him I would have gladly taken a job if it had given me the childhood he had, with two parents at home who loved me instead of a succession of nannies. We had long ago made peace with the differences in our lives, and his use of "Golden boy" was just his bit of revenge for me beating him at basketball.

"I'm out of here. It was nice meeting you, Bella. I'll see you tonight," Jasper said with a look in my direction. I nodded at him and with a wave, he was through the back gate, leaving me alone with Bella.

I grabbed the basketball and put it in the bin next to the court, never meeting Bella's gaze and basically ignoring her presence.

"Do you mind if I wait for him?" she asked timidly.

Her voice sent another thrill through me and I clenched my jaw, my body betraying me yet again.

"Of course I don't mind," I said shortly, walking past her and into the house, wanting to get away from her and the way she made me feel. Except that passing so close to her made it worse – I brushed against her soft body and she smelled so good that my cock was throbbing almost painfully.

I ran up to my bathroom, locked the door, stripped down and turned on the shower. I stepped under the warm stream and immediately grabbed the soap, lathering up before taking my hard dick in my slick hand. My knees buckled when I touched myself, so I braced myself against the tile with my other hand, a loud groan escaping me.

In my fantasy, Bella stood behind me, one hand around my cock, stroking softly but with purpose, while her other arm was around me, holding me close to her chest. She kissed my back with an open mouth, sending shivers up and down my spine, her warmth soaking through me.

"I know we shouldn't, but I couldn't stay away from you anymore," Fantasy Bella said.

My breathing was heavy and my cock was throbbing, aching for release.

"I don't want you to stay away," I said through a moan, the tightening low in my pelvis quickly becoming almost unbearable in its intensity.

"Do you like when I touch you?"

"Oh, God yes," came my strangled response, my hand traveling up and down my slick cock, my eyes closed so I could pretend it was her small hand instead of my large one. I was close...so close.

"Are you going to come for me?" she asked, nipping lightly at my shoulder, her hand moving faster.

"Yes," I whimpered. "Oh, God... Only for you."

I came hard and with a shout, the hand that wasn't on my cock slamming into the tile wall. I was breathing heavily and my head was bowed, my hair wet and dripping and hanging down around my face as I released myself and tried to get my breathing under control.

Then my hand formed a fist and I pounded it into the tiles, angry for what I couldn't have. She didn't belong to me and never would, no matter how badly I wanted her to. She would always be relegated to fantasy; never, ever reality.

x-x

Dad and Bella were scheduled to leave for Aruba on the same day I was flying to Chicago, and we would be traveling to the airport together early that morning. The night before, I tossed and turned in bed, but wasn't able to rest. In my more honest moments, I knew why I couldn't sleep, what was making my stomach hurt and my mind reel.

I stayed up in my room listening to music and trying to read, but my mind wouldn't stop running. So I decided to play for a while; it sometimes relaxed me enough to get me through my tougher bouts of insomnia.

I tip toed past the closed door to my father's bedroom and down the stairs with every intention of heading for the music room, but I stopped short when I saw Bella in the living room. Her back was to me as I walked over to her and spied her staring at a recent photo of me and Dad. It was a candid, taken in our backyard last summer; we were sitting together and laughing about something. We looked happy and at ease and more like friends than father and son.

"Can't sleep?" I asked from behind her.

"Oh!" she said, turning around and putting a hand over her heart. "You scared me."

"Sorry," I said, looking down and stepping back from her. "I was having trouble sleeping and thought I'd play."

She smiled at me and pulled her robe closer around her as if she were cold. "Does that help you sleep?"

"Sometimes. I've tried everything else. This is sort of a last ditch effort," I said, smiling and shrugging my shoulders.

Just then the tea kettle whistled and she started to make her way to the kitchen. "I was just going to have a cup of tea. Would you like one?"

"All right."

She made our tea and handed me a cup, looking shyly at me. "Do you mind if I..." She pointed back toward my music room and blushed.

"Sure," I said, though sure of myself was the last thing I felt.

She followed me back and once I was settled in front of the keys, I warmed up briefly before starting to play while she sat next to me on the floor, her back against the wall. As usual, I lost myself in the music, unaware of anything or anyone around me. When I finished the piece I looked up and she was staring at me, a look of awe and something else I couldn't identify on her face.

"That was so beautiful," she said softly. "I don't understand."

"Don't understand what?"

"Your father," she said simply.

We sat there is silence for a minute before I couldn't stand it anymore.

"Why are you marrying him?" I asked suddenly, an edge to my voice that I immediately regretted. I softened it before I spoke again. "I mean, what is it about him? Why do you love him?"

She looked at me for a long minute before answering. "He's attentive and strong and considerate." She paused and took a deep breath. "He's handsome and reliable and kind."

"And these are the things that are important to you? Reliability?" I asked softly, wondering about words like passion and happiness, desire and excitement. Love.

"Yes," she said, hugging her knees close to her chest. "Those are the things that are important. That I've been looking for my whole life."

Her final words suddenly helped me understand just a little bit why the constancy of someone like my father would appeal to someone like Bella. But that didn't mean I wanted her to be tied to him forever, because that would be the death knell of any chance I had to be with her, no matter how small.

I shook my head and looked down, a soft grumble of frustration in my chest. "Sounds to me like you're...fond of him."

"I am," she said defensively.

"Is that it, though?" I asked, suddenly angry. "What about attraction and passion? What about...wanting someone?"

_What about me? _I wanted to ask. But I didn't.

She picked up her head and looked at me with an intensity that made my heart pound and my stomach flip over, making me think that perhaps she had somehow heard my unasked question. "There's more to a relationship than that. I need more."

"Why can't you have it all? Why does it have to be one or the other?"

She shrugged. "I don't think it exists. It's been the other way before and this, what I have with your father is what I want."

"Tell me," I said softly.

She shook her head and looked away, so I was surprised when she started to speak. "I met Jake my junior year in college. He was a poet, of all things," she began, a small smile on her face. "He was handsome and passionate and so creative."

She sighed deeply and looked up at me. "He never lied to me. He told me he couldn't, or wouldn't, commit to me. But I was the one he took to parties and kissed in public. He read me his poetry and we spent the night together. He didn't do those things with any other girls so I thought, foolishly, that I was the one. That I could change him and make him want to commit.

"I was inexperienced. I had dated one boy in high school and it didn't last very long. He was a friend to my sister's boyfriend and I think he was just dating me so we could all hang out together. Once I got to college, I concentrated on my studies and kept my head down. I had only been with my family for a few years and they were paying for me to go. I didn't want them to regret their decision or think that I didn't appreciate everything they were doing for me.

"Anyway," she continued, "I didn't know if he was fooling around on the side. I never asked and nothing ever got back to me, but I felt like we were...together. Exclusive. I always felt good with him. He was affectionate and sweet and we had an amazing...physical relationship." She cleared her throat and looked down, a slight blush on her cheeks.

She was quiet as her face clouded and I sat patiently, waiting for her to continue. "We moved in together after we graduated. We went back to his hometown of Forks; it was dreary and rainy but we were together and I thought, even if he did cheat on me in college, this was a commitment. We were together now.

"I got a job at the regional hospital in Forks and we lived in a small apartment above the laundromat. He didn't work, he said he needed to put all of his effort into his poetry. So I supported us while he spent his days writing. I was lonely for my family but I had Jake, so that made it bearable. We lived that way for two years until one afternoon when I got sick at work and decided to come home early."

She took a deep breath and let it out, her eyes focusing on some fixed point across the room, the saddest look on her face. "He was in bed with someone else. _Our_ bed. I was devastated, to say the least. It turns out that he had someone else, different women, on the side the whole time we were together. When I kicked him out he said, 'I told you, Bella. I'm not a one woman man.'"

She took a deep breath and looked me in the eye. "I was a fool. People don't change. Men like your father aren't easy to find. He's good and steady and trustworthy."

"It doesn't need to be one or the other," I insisted. I didn't know where I was going with this. I wouldn't let myself get as far as her telling me I was right, that she could have both. With me. Because that scenario was almost as painful as watching her marry my father.

"For me it does," she said bitterly.

"I don't agree."

"You're young. You'll learn," she said almost angrily.

"Just because I'm young doesn't mean I don't understand love and commitment."

"This coming from the boy who told me a few months ago that he doesn't date?" she asked, her eyebrow raised.

"That's not..." I trailed off, clenching my jaw in frustration. "Not every situation is the same. Not every girl is the same. There are exceptions to everything." I didn't think I would ever look at another woman if Bella was mine.

She just shook her head, her mouth in a tight line. "It doesn't matter. Not for me." She bit her lip and looked down. "I'm doing the right thing," she said almost inaudibly. I wasn't sure which of us she was trying to convince.

"Okay," I said angrily, getting up and knocking over my piano bench in the process.

She rose from the floor in response and looked at me with huge eyes. "I..." She trailed off, twisting her fingers together in front of her.

"You're right, you know," I said, my tone softer. "You're doing the right thing. He's a good man and he's been alone a long time."

She nodded. "I'm going to take good care of him. I promise."

It was then that I realized we had been slowly drifting closer together until we were almost touching. The heat from her body and her sweet scent so close to me gave me butterflies in my stomach and made my heart beat like a jackhammer. My dick was hard and it took every ounce of self control I had not to reach out and touch her in some way.

She was off limits, no matter how badly I wanted her, and would be even more so after she married my father. I took a deep breath and turned away from her, everything in my body protesting, telling me to turn back around and take what I wanted. What I needed.

But I wouldn't do that to my father.

"I know you will, and he'll take good care of you," I said, striding through the music room and up the stairs quickly before I could do anything monumentally stupid.

I closed my bedroom door and sank to the floor with my back to it. I ran a hand through my hair and adjusted myself; my hard-on making me uncomfortable. I sat there for a few minutes trying to get it under control but it was useless. Her smell and her voice and the heat of her body were imprinted on my brain. I was reeling from our conversation, from everything said and unsaid, and from being so close to her.

I touched myself through my jeans and threw my head back, groaning. I was so hard it was painful and almost against my will, I unbuttoned my pants and lowered them, along with my boxers, just enough to free my rock hard erection.

I took myself in my hand and moaned loudly.

That was when I heard a gasp outside my door.

Bella.

Knowing she was on the other side of the door made me harder, and I knew that if I was a decent person I would stop. But I couldn't. Having her there listening, fully aware of what I was doing, wrenched another groan from my throat.

"Oh, God," I whispered. "I want you so much."

I thought I heard a soft whimper from the other side of the door, but either way, she was still there. I was as sure of it as I was of my next breath.

I let loose every ounce of hunger and passion and desire I had for her and stroked myself up and down, moaning loudly, no longer caring what I sounded like. She was there, listening to me and I wanted her to know what she did to me. How she made me feel.

I felt my stomach clench and my balls tighten up, and as I released onto my stomach, there was only one thought in my mind.

"_Bella_," I gasped loudly.

I banged my head against the door lightly and closed my eyes. I heard her moving around but she didn't say anything, so I sat there waiting.

For what, I didn't know.

The next sound I heard was her quietly opening and closing the door to the bedroom she shared with my father.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading, and a special thank you to those who review. I make an effort to respond to every review, but FF is broken and hasn't been allowing me to respond in the traditional way, so I've been using the PM system for the last two chapters. That means I may have missed one or two. If it was yours, I sincerely apologize. <strong>

**See you on Tuesday.**


	6. Chapter 6

This one is really short. Sorry, that's just the way it shook out. But the next chapter will be up on Friday.

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

><p>I don't know what I expected, but when she went to the bed she shared with my father, I felt an ache in my chest that I'd never felt before. It wasn't rejection, I knew that. It was that I wanted her. In my bed, yes, but it was something more than that. I knew what it was like to want someone physically. It didn't make me feel this awful.<p>

I felt helpless and sad and empty.

This was all new to me and I wasn't sure what to do about it. Except admit to myself that there was nothing to be done. What could I do? Fall to my knees and beg her to run away with me and leave my father behind? That would never happen and I would never want it to. Because he deserved to be happy. He'd been alone – for me – for so long. I couldn't be the one to take it away from him.

I didn't know what Bella was feeling. What I did know was that she was there, listening to me. She heard me call her name and she knew what I was doing. But that didn't change anything. Not really.

She would, I assumed, marry my father tomorrow; he scheduled the ceremony for the day of their arrival so they could get it out of the way and concentrate on enjoying the rest of their honeymoon. And once they were married, she would truly be off limits to me. That would be the end of that. Though what "that" was, was a mystery to me.

I slept fitfully and when I woke up I grabbed my bag and made my way downstairs, bleary eyed and wanting to just get out of here. I hoped some time away would clear my head and help me figure out what the hell was going on. I wasn't lacking for female companionship, but something drew me to Bella and made me want her in ways I'd never wanted anyone else. I needed desperately to try to move past this, because the reality was that she would be living here in a few weeks time and would, for all intents and purposes, be my step-mother.

Thinking of Bella in any context with the word mother attached to it made my stomach knot and my head hurt. I hated the way I was feeling and while part of me hated that Bella and my father would come back from this vacation married, the other part of me just wanted to get it over with. Because once they were married, maybe my head (and my body) would right itself. Or so I hoped.

Dad was in the kitchen drinking a cup of coffee when I came down with my bag.

"Where's Bella?" I asked before I could think about it, my voice too eager to my own ears.

"She forgot a few things so she went home early this morning. We're picking her up on the way. You all packed?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm ready," I said, dropping my bag and grabbing my own cup of coffee.

"You don't look like you got much sleep last night," he said, his brow furrowing in concern for me.

_Sorry, Dad. I was up late jerking off while your future wife was on the other side of the door and then I couldn't sleep because she was all I could think about._

"Just excited about the trip, I guess," I said, shrugging. "It'll be cool to spend time with Mom."

"I still wish you were coming. But I understand you wanting to spend some time with your mother. Please give Esme my best when you see her."

"I will."

"You'll probably have to register for classes when you get back. You remember our agreement, I hope."

"How could I forget? You deciding the course of my life for me isn't something easily forgotten."

"Edward, music is a nice hobby, but you need to make a living. You're smart enough to do anything you want to do," he said sternly.

"And I _want_ to study music. Why is this so hard for you to understand?"

He closed his eyes briefly, which meant he was trying to rein in his temper. Which was funny, since I was the one who should have been angry.

"Because you should do something worthwhile. You've been blessed with a rare intelligence, why waste it on music? You could change the world with that brain of yours."

"It's not a waste," I said through clenched teeth. "Why do you say that? Don't you think I could effect lives through my music?"

"You could _save_ lives, Edward."

"Could we just...not...right now, Dad. I'm tired and we have a long day ahead of us."

"Edward," he said softly. I looked up at him and the love he had for me was written all over his face, making my anger dissipate completely. Only to be replaced by a guilt so acute it made my chest ache. "I'm not trying to make your life difficult. Let's both take some time and talk about it when we get home. Okay?"

"Okay. Let's get out of here before we're late."

"You're right. Of course," he said brusquely, glancing at his watch. "We should go. Bella's waiting."

We made our way out to the garage but my father stopped me at the doorway and hugged me tightly. "I love you. I want the best for you. I'm not sure I'm always right, but I'm doing the best I can."

"I know you are," I said, hugging him back fiercely. At no point in my life had he let me down. He had spent my whole life making me feel valued and loved and what I had done last night was wrong and disrespectful. Especially to him. I could have wound up with strangers, but he put his life on hold for me for almost twenty years and he finally had his shot at happiness and I was selfish to think about myself first.

We picked up Bella at her apartment building. I was a little shocked that I had never thought about where she lived before, but that wouldn't matter anymore. I was finished with feeling this way.

Bella greeted me politely, as always, but she didn't look me in the eye. If anything confirmed for me that she knew exactly what was going on last night, it was that.

I sat in the back of the car like a child, put my earbuds in, and closed my eyes. I must have fallen asleep because before I knew it we were at the airport.

We went through security and then headed for our separate gates.

Dad dropped both his and Bella's carry on luggage and gave me a hug as Bella stood off to the side. I hugged him back, forcing myself not to look at her.

"Have a good trip, Dad. I'm happy for you."

"Thanks," he said, pulling away. "Think about what we talked about this morning."

I rolled my eyes and ignored his comment, turning to Bella. It wouldn't do to be rude, especially in front of my father.

"Bella," I said, my voice catching. "Have a good trip. Congratulations."

"Thank you," she said quietly.

There was awkwardness in the air and I really couldn't take it anymore. "Well, I better get to my gate. I'll see you back at home."

And with that I walked away and didn't look back.

I slept on the plane the whole way to Chicago. I hadn't slept much the night before so the rest was welcome, as was the respite from my thoughts.

I got in at midday and my mother offered to come pick me up at the airport, but I insisted on taking a cab. There was no reason for her to sit through Chicago traffic when I could find my own way.

Mom bought a large apartment when she moved here and designated a room just for me. Amazingly, she decorated it exactly to my taste and I had always felt comfortable there. I knew she was partly trying to entice me to move in with her by creating a space for me, but no matter her reasoning, I appreciated that she kept a room for me.

I was still tired when I arrived at her apartment, so when I realized she wasn't home, I went to my room to lie down.

"Edward, sweetie, wake up."

There was hand softly stroking my hair and it felt so good. I wanted to stay exactly where I was; waking up would only ruin the fantasy of who was next to me, touching me so gently and sweetly.

"Come on, sweetie."

It was my mom, I slowly realized, opening my eyes.

"Hi, Mom," I said, getting up on my elbows. "Sorry."

"That's okay. There's no harm in being tired. I'm just really happy you're here."

"Me, too."

"I ordered us some food. Are you hungry?"

"Yeah, a little," I said. "Let me just catch a shower and I'll be right there."

She kissed me softly on the forehead, gave me a huge smile, and left the room.

I took a long, hot shower, hoping to wake up and wash away my long day of travel and sleep. I tried continually to force my mind away from Bella, and I was marginally successful, but it was like she was always there in the back of my head, gnawing away at me. She was thousands of miles away from me yet she lingered; her scent, her smile, her voice – they were all right there, swimming at the edge of my consciousness.

My cell was beeping after I got out of the shower. I looked at the incoming message.

_We're married!_

Attached to the message was a picture of Dad and Bella on the beach. Dad was in a light suit and Bella was holding a bouquet and wearing a simple white sundress.

They were smiling and happy.

And all of a sudden I felt very, very tired.

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><p><strong>I still can't reply to reviews properly, and if you have PMs turned off, I wasn't able to respond to you at all. Sorry about that. But I think I got everyone I could this time around.<strong>

**Thank you for reading.**

**See you on Friday.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Another short one. Please bear with me, it's all important.**

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

><p>Mom and I spent the first night at home, just like she wanted. We talked and laughed and caught up on each other's lives.<p>

She had moved here four years ago to work for one of the largest and most prestigious architectural firms in the country. She put in long hours and didn't have much time for a social life, but she was happy and fulfilled.

Or so she said.

"I have two weeks off to spend with you," she told me over dinner. "There's a music festival in Grant Park later this week and I know Garrett wants to come with us to that, and I thought we could take a walk over to Navy Pier one night and grab dinner. Then there's an exhibit at the museum I thought you'd like. And if you're interested, I set up an appointment for us with the Dean of Music Studies at Northwestern. I'm not trying to force you, I just–"

"Mom!" I cut off, feeling uneasy. "Slow down. I'll go to the appointment with you, but...I don't know..." This was all too much to deal with at the moment. Though it was good to know my buddy Garrett from across the hall was still around. I met him the first time I visited Mom here, and while we didn't talk but a few times during the year, we always had a great time together when I visited.

"Let me just say this," she broke in. "I can pay for school, you wouldn't have to take out any loans. You can live here full time and you wouldn't have to get a job. I know I'm asking a lot, and I'm not trying to pressure you, but would you just think about it?"

"Yeah, of course I will," I assured her. And I would, because she was my mother and I wanted her to be happy. We had always had a bit of a tentative relationship and I knew she wanted it to be more. I did too. It was just that moving here was such a big step away from my home and everything I'd grown to love in Washington.

"What?" she asked, worrying her bottom lip with her hand. "You look sick. Did something happen?" She looked sad and I hated that I made her feel that way.

"I don't know," I said, shrugging and running a hand through my hair. My stomach hurt and I wanted to go back to bed.

"I might not see you a lot, but you're my son and I can tell when something's bothering you," Mom said softly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I thought about it for a second. About telling her about my intense attraction to Bella and how it was making me feel bad about myself. But not only would saying it out loud make it real, but the whole situation was wrong and embarrassing.

"No," I said, shaking my head.

"Is everything all right with your father? Is it his...wife?" Mom asked, her voice breaking on the last word.

I looked at her and I could see the hurt in her eyes and she was twisting her fingers in her lap.

"Mom?"

"Ignore me," she said, waving her hand in front of her face.

"Are you jealous?"

"I don't know. Maybe a little. I loved your father once. Very much. And I think if my parents hadn't taken me away, I would still be with him today. I felt very strongly about what we had. We made you together, after all." She took my hand across the table and held it tightly.

"Did you and Dad ever try again, after you came back?" I asked, curious about what all of this meant.

"Not really," she answered. "It was awkward as hell for a while and once we started feeling comfortable with each other again, I didn't want to ruin it by proposing anything more."

"Do you ever regret it?" I asked, looking down and wondering how different my life would have been had I grown up with a mother and a father in the house. I wondered if I would feel differently about having a girlfriend and committing to someone. I wondered if I would have ever met Bella and that thought made me simultaneously happy and incredibly sad.

"Sometimes," she said softly. "Mostly I regret the times I missed with you. I don't think I was a very good mother."

"Mom...it wasn't like I never saw you. You were very much a part of my life."

"I know," she said, wiping a tear from her cheek. "But I wasn't the mother I wanted to be. I'd like to try to make it up to you. I just hope it's not too late."

"Of course it's not. I just don't know if I'm ready to make such a big move by coming to live here. I'm sorry."

"Don't be, please," she said sincerely. "I'm not trying to guilt you into anything."

"I know," I said, rubbing my chest. The ache was back and I felt like I couldn't do anything right these days. Because even though I truly believed she wasn't trying to give me a guilt trip, it was still there, gnawing at me. She had been alone for as long as Dad, as far as I knew, but he at least had me with him. She had no one. Maybe it was her turn now.

But the thought of leaving Washington was more unappealing than it had ever been, and the "why" of it made the throb in my chest that much worse.

I was so tired.

"We'll see, okay?" I said, forcing a smile onto my face. "In the mean time, we'll have a good time while I'm here."

"We will," she said, getting up and picking up our plates. "I love you, Edward." She leaned over and kissed me on the forehead before taking our plates to the sink.

"I love you too," I said through a yawn.

"Why don't you go back to sleep, honey? It's getting late anyway."

"Thanks, I will. 'Night, Mom," I said, getting up and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"Good night, sweetie. I'll see you in the morning."

I went to my room, flipped on the television, and fell asleep almost immediately.

I woke up to my mom running her hand through my hair and talking softly to me. It was nice and I didn't want to move.

"Come on, sweetie. It's after eight. I made breakfast."

"Okay," I mumbled.

"You're sleeping an awful lot. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Mm-hm," I answered, not opening my eyes.

"Edward, get up."

"'Kay."

"Sweetie, it's ten o'clock. Please get up now."

My eyes fluttered open and fell on the anxious face of my mother. My head felt like lead and I had no desire to move at all, but I didn't want to upset her anymore so I sat up, groaning.

"Sorry, Mom. I'm getting up." I dangled my legs off the side of the bed and rubbed my face.

"You don't need to apologize. Are you all right?"

"Yeah," I said, running my hand across my face again. "I'm going to grab a shower."

"Okay. I'll heat up your breakfast. I thought we could just go for a walk by the river today and maybe grab lunch out."

"Sounds like a plan." My voice sounded lifeless in my own ears, but my mother didn't look concerned, so I kissed her on the cheek and went to take my shower.

Mom and I had a nice afternoon and I found myself noticeably relaxing as we took our walk and ate lunch outdoors at the waterfront. I hadn't even noticed how tense I was until I started to loosen up and I wondered how long I'd been like that.

When we got back to Mom's apartment the beeping of my cell made me realize that I had left it behind for the afternoon. I had a three texts and a missed call from Dad. He was upset that he hadn't heard from me and was anxious to know if I'd made it to Chicago okay. He was threatening to call Mom if I didn't contact him, and I thought Dad having to call Mom while on his honeymoon might upset Bella. So I texted him back quickly, telling him that I had arrived safely the day before and apologizing for not contacting him sooner.

And that was when I realized I hadn't thought about Bella the whole afternoon.

But now that I had, I couldn't stop myself from thinking about her.

It was just past six o'clock but I told my mom I wanted to lie down for a little while before dinner. She seemed startled but didn't say anything, so I made my way to my room where I lay down on the bed, fully clothed. I was asleep in minutes and didn't wake up until the next morning.

x-x

Northwestern was a great campus and only about a thirty minute drive from Mom's apartment. I had visited it before, so we didn't take the tour, but we had lunch with the Dean of Music, a very nice woman named Victoria Givens, and discussed the program, which was intensive and focused. After lunch, I played a composition I had written recently, and she assured me after looking over my paperwork that she would immediately approve my application if I decided to transfer.

Afterward, we headed back to Mom's apartment. I slumped in the passenger seat of her car, exhausted.

"Edward, are you all right? You've been here for four days and all you do is sleep. And you look tired again. I haven't wanted to pry, but I'm worried."

"Sorry," I said. It was the only thing my mind could come up with.

"You slept for more than twelve hours last night and you're tired again. And when you played today..."

"I'm sorry, Mom. I just have a lot on my mind," I answered vaguely.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, glancing at me briefly before turning her eyes back to the road.

"No," I said softly, shaking my head. "But I am sorry that I've been so tired. We'll do more things together before I leave, I promise."

"It's not that, I just don't like seeing you unhappy."

"I'm really okay. I think I'm just catching up on sleep I missed during the school year. I pulled a few all-nighters and there was a lot of performance pressure."

"You're sure that's it?" she asked anxiously.

"Yeah. I'm relaxed and just enjoying being stress free, I guess." I knew that was partly true. Being here with my mother was easy, just like it had always been. But I also knew, in the part of my brain and heart where honesty resided, that I was sleeping to get away from the things I felt and thought that were destructive and unhealthy.

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading and for all of your lovely reviews. I appreciate them, especially for a story that's a little difficult, more than I can say.<strong>

**See you on Tuesday.**


	8. Chapter 8

**I fiddled with this one quite a bit – I think these middle chapters are sometimes the most challenging. Any and all errors belong to me and my itchy fingers.**

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

><p>I spent the next few days sleeping on and off and spending time with Mom. Eventually, I could tell that my excuses as to why I was sleeping so much were wearing thin. When Mom suggested there might be something physically wrong with me and that I might want to see a doctor, I realized I had to try to force myself to snap out of it. I knew very well what was bothering me, and sleeping simply helped me forget for a little while. But surprisingly, spending time with my mom also helped me leave my troubles behind. We watched movies, shopped, and cooked together, and for a little while each day I forgot about the things that would plague my mind when it was idle.<p>

I went over to see Garrett a couple of times and he invited me to a party on Saturday night, which my mother encouraged me to attend. I would rather have stayed home and slept or watched television, but I knew if I didn't go Mom would make a huge deal of it, so I decided to go to make her happy. She kept looking at me with a worried expression and if going to a party would set her mind at ease (and get her off my back) it would be the least I could do.

We took the El up to Evanston, a suburb of Chicago, and on the way Garrett filled me in on the party. It was being thrown by Laurent, who was the cousin of Garrett's girlfriend Kate. He was older than us and had been out of recently college for a while, but Garrett had been to his parties before and assured me that he was cool and so were his friends.

"There'll be plenty of girls there," he said. "You shouldn't have any trouble finding someone to hook up with."

"Yeah," I said noncommittally. Garrett always had a line on a party or get-together, and when I tagged along when I was in town, I would usually wind up with a random girl. The outcome of those encounters, whether it was making out, a blow-job, or sex, varied from party to party, but I almost always enjoyed myself. But this time around, I couldn't muster much enthusiasm.

"Hey, man. Don't sound so excited," he said, his laughter echoing in the almost deserted El car.

"I'm sorry," I said, shaking my head. "I'm sure we'll have a good time."

"You all right?" he asked. Garrett and I were close, as close as two people who saw each other only a few times a year could be. I had an almost overwhelming urge to tell him, to unburden myself and maybe get this weight off my chest. He didn't know Bella and had never met my father and he was one of the least judgmental people I'd ever met.

But I couldn't make myself say the words. It was creepy and weird and I didn't want to be that guy. So I smiled and told him I was fine, just tired but looking forward to the party.

He nodded and didn't press me, but I suspected he wasn't buying it.

Garrett wasn't kidding about there being girls for me to hook up with at the party. There were more beautiful girls in that house than I'd ever seen in any one place. Laurent's house had a pool and despite myself, I noticed the very sexy curves on some of the bikini-clad bodies in the backyard. Maybe a random hookup was exactly what I needed.

Kate was already at the party when we got there and she gave me a huge hug when she saw me. She and Garrett had been together since they were sophomores in high school and looked as happy now as they did back then. I was envious of what they had, somehow wishing I could find it in myself to care about someone that much and want only them. Someone who was available to me, that is.

Pushing thoughts of Bella aside, I made the rounds with Kate and Garrett, meeting Laurent, who was very gracious and made me feel welcome, and reacquainting myself with some of their friends that I had met on previous visits.

"Hey, Edward," Kate said, coming up behind me as I was getting a beer. I turned and Kate stood there with one of the most stunning girls I'd ever seen.

"Edward, this is my cousin Tanya. Tanya, this is Edward," Kate said.

I smiled and stuck my hand out. "Nice to meet you, Tanya."

She grasped my hand and smiled back at me shyly. "Likewise," she said, blushing. She was absolutely beautiful. She had strawberry blonde hair that was piled high on her head and clear ice blue eyes. She was wearing a bikini and she had the most beautiful curves. There was nothing less attractive to me than girls that were too thin. Tanya's body was perfect.

"Oh, excuse me," Kate said, being incredibly obvious. "Garrett is waving me over. I'll see you two later."

Kate walked away and Tanya and I stood there awkwardly for a minute before I asked her if she wanted a beer.

After we both had bottles in our hands we went over to sit by the pool.

"So Kate tells me you're Garrett's friend?"

"Yep. I'm here visiting my Mom. I live in Washington state with my dad."

"Your dad? That's a little weird. I mean, I didn't mean that...I just–"

"It's okay," I said, laughing. "Kids usually wind up with their Mom. I just...didn't." I shrugged my shoulders and she smiled at me.

"How long are you here for?" she asked.

"Another week. I have to get back for the start of school."

"Oh, where do you go?"

"University of Washington," I said. "But my mom would love for me to come here and go to Northwestern."

"I go to Northwestern. I'm studying romance languages."

"I'm studying music. For now."

"Wow, really? Do you play an instrument?"

"Piano, mainly, but I also play a little guitar."

"I'd love to hear you play sometime."

We talked about music and college and our families. I was comfortable and talking to her was easy. We drank a few more beers and with each one, we would sit closer and closer together. The party had long ago moved inside and though Tanya had put a wrap on over her bathing suit, she was starting to get chilly, so I put my arm around her.

"Is this all right?" I asked, looking into her sparkling blue eyes.

She nodded and looked down shyly before taking another sip of her beer.

She was a nice girl who wanted me to touch her. She was sweet and smart and obviously interested in me. Bella came to my mind, but I quickly pushed her away. She was married to my father now, and undoubtedly they were enjoying themselves in Aruba. Why should I deny myself?

I looked over at her again and she was looking at me expectantly, so I did what any nineteen year old boy would do with a beautiful, willing, nice girl.

I kissed her.

It made me feel warm and nice and she was a very sweet girl, so I kept doing it.

"What's wrong?" she asked after we had been kissing for a while. She pulled away from me, a hand on the side of my face.

"Nothing. Why?" I asked, genuinely perplexed. I had been enjoying her soft lips and running my hands over her leg and the curve of her hip.

She shrugged. "I don't know. You seem a million miles away."

"Do I? I'm sorry," I said softly, my stomach hurting all of a sudden.

"Who is she?"

"Who is who?" I asked, though I knew exactly what she meant.

"The girl you're thinking about," she said softly.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. I _had_ been enjoying myself, but I knew she was right. My mind wasn't all here. Not really.

"That's okay. I just think...I think you're nice. But I don't want to compete for your attention."

I shook my head and sat with my elbows on my knees. "I'm sorry," I repeated. "It's not anyone I'm with, like a girlfriend or anything."

"Do you want to talk about it? I'm a good listener."

"I can't," I whispered, my voice cracking. "I like you, though."

"I like you too. If you ever decide to come live here, give me a call. No pressure or anything, we can just be friends. I'll show you around campus."

She smiled so sweetly at me and she had a depth of understanding in her eyes that made me want to spill everything to her. But I didn't. I couldn't. Not to her, or to Garrett, or to my mother.

She handed me a piece of paper with her number on it before giving me one last soft kiss on the cheek and telling me to call her if I ever wanted to hang out.

"Let's go mingle," she said, standing and holding her hand out to me.

I took her hand and stood, but as she led me to the house I stopped her abruptly and pulled her into a tight hug. "Thank you. I'm sor–"

"It's okay," she said, hugging me back briefly before letting me go. "I had fun."

"Me too," I said genuinely, smiling at her and taking her hand before walking into the party.

After the party, my time with my mom seemed to pass much quicker because we were spending more time together and I was sleeping less. Garrett and I hung out and played video games and caught a Cubs game one afternoon when my mom had to go into work unexpectedly.

Mom and I got to know each other over the next few days; really know each other. We had long dinners and walks along the river, we went to museums, and caught a few movies. I learned that she liked cheesy action movies, devoured any mystery novel she could get her hands on, and played loud jazz music when no one was around.

Mom took me to an exhibit at the Museum of Contemporary Art on Modern Chicago Architecture. That her name appeared in the exhibit made me inordinately proud of her; she had worked so hard to get where she was and had done it all alone.

We were having a good time and I was starting to feel normal again.

Mom tried to hide it, but I could tell she was a little lonely, despite having friends and a demanding career. One night at dinner, I asked her about it.

"I have friends, my job..."

"That's not what I mean."

"I know what you meant," she said softly, her fork moving her food around her plate.

"And?" I prompted after a few moments of silence.

She sighed deeply and looked up at me. "I don't know. I suppose I do get lonely some days. I've dated over the years, you know. I'm not a complete hermit," she said, a small smile on her face.

"I know, but don't you ever want something more permanent?"

"It would be nice, I just haven't met the right person yet," she said, shrugging her shoulder and chewing her pasta thoughtfully. "What about you? You haven't had a girlfriend since Angela, have you?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. The girls at school are just so...young. I mean, they want to spend their time at keg parties and cheerleading the Huskies. I have no interest in any of that."

"Why not?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, Edward, that you've always been so serious. Why not go out and have a little fun? Would it be such a crime for you to act like an nineteen year old college student?"

"Am I hearing this right? My own mother telling me to be irresponsible?" I asked, arching my eyebrows and smiling.

"I realize your father is a role model in many ways, because he was exactly the same way. I was younger than he was when we dated, so he would forego parties and college activities to spend time with his high school aged girlfriend. Then we had you...I just think he missed out. I'm so very grateful that he raised you as well as he did, believe me, but he had so much responsibility at a young age. I don't want that for you. College is supposed to be fun, Edward."

I sat there and thought about what she said. She was right in many ways. I had been avoiding anything fun on campus, convincing myself that I wasn't interested. But I'd also never taken the time to try. I had been so focused on school for as long as I could remember and the only time I'd allowed myself to have fun was here with Garrett or hanging with Jasper, and even he had tried unsuccessfully to get me to do more stuff on campus with him.

"You're right," I told her. "I know you are. I'm just not sure I know how to be any other way."

"I love who you are. You shouldn't change. But you should enjoy your youth. As cheesy as it sounds, it'll be over before you know it and I don't want you to have any regrets."

"What are your regrets?" I asked softly.

"Letting my parents take me away from you. Being alone and scared and not demanding more time with you after I moved back to Washington. Not having the nerve to leave my parents sooner and be with you and your father. I thought they knew best."

"How are they?" I asked.

"They're fine. They wanted to come while you were here but Grandpa's health isn't good."

"It's okay." I had a tenuous relationship at best with my grandparents. They were angry with my mother for moving back to Washington all those years ago and I didn't actually meet them until I was ten years old. They had mellowed considerably by then, and I knew they loved me, but I also knew they didn't like my father, which made me resentful. I would never be overtly rude to them out of respect for my mother, but I wasn't overly warm either.

"Will you think about what I said? About taking some time to have fun?" she asked, bringing us back on topic.

"I will," I answered honestly.

And I did.

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading, and a special thank you to those who take the time to review. I'm pretty sure I answered then all last time around. If I didn't, my apologies. It wasn't intentional.<strong>

**Just three more chapters.  
><strong>

**See you on Friday.**


	9. Chapter 9

**I fiddled with this one quite a bit too – it's a sickness. All errors are mine. **

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended**

* * *

><p>I enjoyed the time I spent with my mother in Chicago and went home with a renewed sense of optimism. Dad and Bella were married and my silly boyish crush seemed to be under control. I wasn't pining away for her anymore and my sleep patterns were back to normal. I felt happy and was looking forward to going home. The only thing that was hanging over my head was my father and his demands about school, but I was still holding out hope that he would change his mind.<p>

Dad and Bella weren't due back until the day after me, so when I walked in the house, I was shocked at what I found. Boxes upon boxes, furniture, lamps, paintings...I quickly realized I was looking at Bella's belongings. She was married to my father, so of course she would live here. Dad must have arranged for everything to be delivered here while they were away.

I smiled ruefully, went to my bedroom to drop my bag, and then went straight for my piano. I was lost in my music the minute I started to play.

Dad and Bella came home the next day looking rested and happy. I breathed a sigh of relief that they had a good time and that what had happened between me and Bella, such as it was, seemed to have been forgotten. She greeted me warmly and didn't seem awkward at all. I guessed we were going to pretend it never happened, which suited me just fine.

I spent most of the next day playing, avoiding the unpacking that was going on around me, and working on a piece that I had been toying with for a while.

"How was your trip?" my father asked that night as the three of us were sitting in the kitchen feasting on Chinese takeout. I had been very aware of Bella's presence ever since we sat down and it was unnerving me a little.

"It was good," I said, smiling, trying to keep my good mood going. "Mom and I had a good time."

"You missed your piano, though," Bella broke in, smiling at me.

"Yeah, I did," I replied, the corner of my mouth curving up.

"Speaking of which, we need to talk about school, Edward. Registration is next week."

And here I was, hoping to avoid this conversation for as long as possible. "Right now?"

"Yes, right now."

"You know, when I was in Chicago, Mom set up a meeting with the Dean of Music at Northwestern."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" my father asked, dropping his fork against his plate with a loud clatter.

"I'm just letting you know I have options. Mom even offered to pay." I knew I was goading him, but I couldn't seem to help myself. Bella was sitting across from me, staring intently at my father, but remaining silent.

"Esme must be doing well for herself," he replied, a hint of bitterness in his voice.

"She does all right," I said carefully.

"Are you really thinking about moving to Chicago?" Bella blurted out, looking at me with a bewildered look on her face.

Before I could respond to her, Dad spoke as if she hadn't just asked me a question. "I'm going to call your mother. I don't appreciate her trying to undermine me."

"Maybe if you would let me do what I want to do, she wouldn't be trying to help me," I exclaimed, completely losing my cool. I was so tired of this discussion and I didn't like how he ignored Bella.

"Help you? It's none of her business!" he shouted back. "And I don't appreciate your attitude."

I saw Bella jump at the volume of his voice, which just pissed me off more.

"Tough shit," I said evenly.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"I'm not quite sure I did."

I got up, knocking my chair over in the process. "No, Dad, I'm sure you heard exactly what I said."

I strode out of the room, only to hear him call after me angrily and Bella's soft voice saying, "Let him be, Carlisle."

Just what I needed, her defending me to my father as if I were a child.

I made it to my room before I could hear how he responded to her, put my ear buds in, laid down, closed my eyes, and drowned out whatever was going on around me.

I didn't notice my dad was in the room until I felt the mattress dip as he sat down next to me.

I opened my eyes, sat up, took my ear buds out, and waited.

"I just got off the phone with your mother. We're both worried about you."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and instead closed them briefly before looking back at him. "I'm fine. I'm sorry for my attitude," I said contritely, though I really wasn't sorry, per se. I just wanted to keep the peace.

"I know you think I push you too much and that I don't respect your music. You mother helped me see that I've been sending you mixed signals. I've been pushing you on that piano for years and then I tell you music isn't a good course of study. It wasn't my intention to be such a hard ass or to confuse you."

"I'm not confused, Dad. I want to study music," I said, running a hand through my hair.

"Is it wrong that I want the best for you?"

"Why is studying medicine best for me? And why would you think it's okay for you to decide that for me?"

He took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I just think that maybe I might know better than you about certain things. I do have a few years on you, Edward."

"I know. But just because medicine was right for you doesn't mean it will be for me."

He nodded his head and looked down. "Esme and I were talking, and as much as she wants you to come and live there, she wants what's best for you, and so do I. We came up with a compromise that I think you'll like."

"What?" I asked warily. My father had been so unbending on this issue I was sure I would walk away unsatisfied.

"How about if you stay here, continue at UW, but you double major? I'm not sure the school is academically challenging for you anyway, so it shouldn't add too much to your work load." he said cautiously.

"You mean..." I looked at him, trailing off, not wanting to get my hopes up only to be let down when he told me that my double major would have to be in biology and physics.

"I mean," he said, smiling and putting an affectionate hand on my shoulder, "music can be one of those majors. The other is up for debate. I make no secret about the fact that I think you'd make an amazing doctor, but it can be something else. Engineering, accounting, business. Just make sure it's something useful."

"Dad..."

"I know, I'm sorry. Music isn't useless," he said, rolling his eyes and smiling.

I smiled back at him, realization slowly dawning on me. Despite his snide remark about the usefulness of music, or lack thereof, my mother had somehow convinced him to let me continue my studies. Granted, it came with a huge caveat, but it was a deal I was willing to accept.

"Thanks, Dad," I said, reaching over and hugging him.

"You're welcome, but it's really your mother you should be thanking. She wants you there, that much is obvious, but she loves you enough to want the best for you. We both do, but I guess we have different ways of showing it."

I pulled away from him and sat back. "I'll call her later and thank her."

"She's a wonderful advocate for you. She succeeded where many have failed," he said, laughing softly.

He regarded me for a moment before his expression turned serious. "I want you to know, though, if your studies suffer at any point because of the course overload, music will be the first thing to go."

"Understood."

"Other than this school business, is everything all right? Your mother said you were sleeping a lot while you were in Chicago."

"I'm fine, Dad. Really."

"Is it Bella?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, my face flushing just a little.

"You've been different since she and I have been together. I know..." he said, trailing off and running a hand across the back of his neck. "You know you're the most important thing in my life, right? No matter what."

"I know that, and I know I've been scarce lately, but do you really want me around? You work all the time and I'm sure you'd rather spend time with Bella than with me when you're home." I shrugged my shoulders and smiled. "I don't mind. You and I had plenty of time together."

"I do want to spend time with you. I miss you. I feel like we don't talk anymore and I don't know what's going on in your life."

"There's nothing going on."

"If you say so, but promise me we'll make time for each other. I know it's my fault too, but let's both try harder, okay?"

"Okay, Dad."

"This thing with Bella, I know it was quick and I know it disrupted your life, but I didn't want to wait. I hope you understand."

"Of course I do," I replied, my stomach suddenly feeling funny.

He patted my shoulder again and left my room, leaving my mind at ease but my stomach in knots, wondering just what my mother told him, and who else had tried to talk him into changing his mind.

School started two weeks later and with my double major, I was busier than ever, which suited me just fine. It kept me out of the house and away from Bella. I did see her occasionally, which was unavoidable, but by some sort of mutual and unspoken agreement, those encounters ended quickly. I was proud of myself; I still thought about her, especially at night and when I was composing, but I was able to keep it in check.

Another thing keeping me busy was that I decided to take my mother's advice, so when Jasper told me about a party on campus at the end of September, I surprised both of us when I told him I would go.

I was planning on being responsible, so I drove to the party with every intention of seeing myself home. Sometimes things don't turn out like we plan, though.

I was handed a beer the minute I walked in and before I knew it, I was officially drunk. The night was a mish-mosh of inane conversation, really loud music, and the smell of stale beer. But there were a few other music majors there so we talked shop a bit, and I did met a few cool new people. Maybe going out and having fun wasn't such a bad idea after all.

I decided I wanted to go home at around two in the morning, but there was no way I could drive. Jasper was going back to the dorms with a girl he met, so I was left to find a way home. I lived out of the way, so hitching a ride wasn't possible. I knew I could call my father and he would actually appreciate the fact that I didn't drive, so I pulled out my cell and called home.

The phone only rang twice before it was picked up by a surprisingly alert sounding Bella.

"Hey, Bella, it's Edward," I said quickly. "Is my dad around?"

"No, he got called into the hospital a few hours ago. What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I said, suddenly feeling more sober than I had in hours, but still way too drunk to get anywhere near the drivers' seat of a car. "I just can't drive home and thought Dad could pick me up. I can call a cab," I said, wondering how I was going to pay for it. It was a long ride and I only had about ten dollars in my pocket. Maybe the driver could stop at the bank on the way.

"I'll come and get you."

"No way," I protested. "I'll get home another way. Or find somewhere to crash. You shouldn't have to get out of bed."

"I'm already dressed. Where are you? On campus?"

"Look, Bella, I apprecia–"

"Edward, I have the keys in my hand and I'm walking out the door. Don't make me look for you."

"Okay, okay. Stubborn," I muttered before giving her the address of the party. I waited outside, the fresh air sobering me further. Twenty minutes later, she pulled up in her old, clunky Saturn. I ran over and threw myself into the passenger seat, closing the door and looking over at her sheepishly. "Sorry. Thanks for coming."

"It's really no problem," she said. "I'm glad you called instead of driving. Where's your car?"

"In the lot. Jas will take me to pick it up tomorrow."

She nodded and we were silent until Bella turned to get on Route 520 and her car revved angrily as she got the speed up past forty miles per hour. If I wasn't drunk, I might not have laughed. But I was.

"What's so funny?"

"Can't my father buy you a new car? Jeez, Bella, how old is this thing?"

Her head turned to me quickly, her anger visible even in the darkness of the car. "There's nothing wrong with my car. Besides, if I want a new one, I can buy my own."

"Okay, so why don't you go buy yourself a new car?" I asked, smiling at her ire. I liked women with fire and I was just drunk enough that I could appreciate this side of her without guilt.

"Because this car runs just fine, thank you very much."

"Sure it does, what with the rattling under the hood and the rust falling off every mile or so," I teased.

"Very funny, wise ass," she said, the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She looked almost ethereal in the dim glow of the lights on the dashboard and I couldn't tear my eyes away from her.

I had been hit on at the party, multiple times, but I blew them all off. One girl even outright offered to take me to the bathroom for a blow job, but I doubted my ability to get it up for her. She was pretty, but who wants a girl who would make that kind of suggestion to a virtual stranger? Last year, I probably wouldn't have thought about it twice about taking her up on it, but I wanted more now. More than empty pleasure with a stranger in a filthy bathroom.

"Did you have a good time at the party?"

"It was all right," I said, shrugging my shoulders. "The last half is kind of a blur, but I think I had fun."

She giggled and shook her head. "I sometimes forget that you're nineteen."

"You shouldn't. I'm trying to act my age for once," I said, suddenly very aware of her presence. It was the first time we'd been alone together since she married Dad.

"What do you mean?" she asked, looking at me quickly.

"It means I want to be irresponsible for once. I want to enjoy myself. I spent my whole childhood trying to be an adult to please my father. I want to be a kid for once. Because I _am_ a kid."

She nodded her head and she might have said something, but my head was swimming and I didn't catch it.

"Why did you sound wide awake when I called?" I asked, apropos of nothing.

"Because I was," she said, her eyes on the road as we exited 520 in the final stretch toward home.

"It's late," I said, stating the obvious.

She shrugged her shoulders. "I have trouble sometimes...it doesn't matter." She was gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles were almost white.

We were silent until we pulled into the garage at home and she killed the engine. "Is everything really all right?" I asked softly, emboldened by the darkness in the car.

Her hand holding the keys dropped to her lap and she was quiet for a moment while I sat and waited. "I'm happy. I really am. I love your father and being married to him gives me a contentment I never thought I would have. He's wonderful."

"But?"

"But...but nothing," she said firmly. I knew though, that the longing I heard in her voice was real. If she didn't want to tell me, it wasn't my place to push, for as attracted as I was to her, she was my father's wife. She wasn't my friend or my love interest or even a casual acquaintance. Being this close to her though, with my resistance low and in the close confines of the car, made it difficult to remember that she was off limits.

"If you say so," I said when she made no move to get out of the car. "But there's more. You know there is."

"No, there isn't. He makes me feel good. He's kind and loving and we have a good life together."

"Sure you do," I said smugly.

She grabbed the door handle and turned to look at me. "You know what, Edward? For a kid who just reminded me how young he is, you think you know a lot, don't you?"

"Not everything," I said. "But some things you can't hide or deny. It's obvious to anyone who pays attention."

She opened the car door, got out, slammed it shut, and walked into the house without looking back.

And I realized I was a fool to think I could be this close to her and feel nothing.

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading.<strong>

**See you on Tuesday.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

><p>I immediately went back into avoidance mode. I left the house early and didn't come back until well into the evening, but it was all easily explained with my new course load. I wanted to apologize to Bella for my boorish behavior, but I thought it best to stay away for now. I simply didn't trust myself around her.<p>

But running into her was inevitable. I would greet her politely when it happened, and then disappear into my room. Still, I was reminded of her in small ways every day, whether it was her car in the garage, the apples Dad and I never enjoyed suddenly appearing in our fruit bowl, or the small pair of sneakers that were always sitting in the front foyer; I was simply never free of her. And I wasn't sure I wanted to be. Which was the crux of my problem.

I had decided to add a biology major in addition music; it would make my father happy and I had always had an interest in the sciences. My father was ecstatic when I told him and I was sure he was convinced that I would some day see the error of my ways and follow in his footsteps. I doubted it, but I was starting to see the wisdom in having a back up plan.

I had been having trouble composing ever since I came home from Chicago and it was making me deeply unhappy. I could have blamed it on my load of bio classes, but it was more than that. I was struggling to get the music out on a daily basis and the things that usually kick-started my creative process were failing miserably. I was able to begin a new composition but the end was eluding me, only adding to my frustration.

Since I had been spending most of my time on campus playing, I thought maybe I would try at home. I knew no one would bother me in my music room and I was becoming desperate; It was already over seven weeks into the semester and I had yet to produce anything new. If nothing else, I welcomed the change of scenery.

I went home late, as usual, but instead of going to my room, I sat at my piano and played. Nothing new came to me, but I somehow enjoyed playing more than I had in a while.

When I stopped much later, I was tired, but optimistic that perhaps a change in venue was all I needed.

"That was beautiful."

I put a hand to my heart, willing it to stop beating so violently, and turned to find Bella standing in the doorway to the music room. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

"I was already awake and I heard you playing but I couldn't really hear it, so I wanted to get closer."

"I'm sorry for disturbing you," I said, glancing at my watch and turning back to the piano. "It's so late. I had no idea. Dad usually sleeps right through it."

"It's really okay, I wasn't sleeping," she said softly from behind me. "What were you playing?"

"Something I wrote a long time ago," I said, my back still turned to her.

"You...wrote that?" she asked, a hint of awe in her voice.

"I did."

She was closer. I could feel her moving toward me.

"I've never heard anything like it." She paused briefly, sitting next to me on the bench, her legs over the opposite side. "I tried, you know. To get Carlisle to change his mind about your music. He wouldn't listen to me. Your mother, though..."

"I think that had more to do with me than with you," I said, trying to assure her. Her head was down and she was twisting the belt to her robe around her hand. "They've both known me longer than you have. I'm sure that's the only reason she was more persuasive."

"Maybe," she said softly before taking a deep breath. "Will you play something else for me?"

"Sure," I said, straightening my back and placing my fingers back on the keys.

I played the song I couldn't find an ending to, hoping against hope that maybe she would help me find it. As I played, instead of becoming less aware of my surroundings, as usually happened, I became hyper-aware of her presence. My head was swimming and my body was tense as my fingers flew across the keys.

The music ended abruptly and I felt her jump next to me when I stopped. "Is that it?"

"It's new and it doesn't have an ending yet."

"Why not?"

I shook my head and looked down at the keys, my fingers absently playing notes.

"How do you want it to end?" she asked, giving me the impression that we weren't talking about the music anymore.

"What I want doesn't matter," I said softly, my eyes still on the keys. I hadn't looked at her yet, and didn't want to. It was just too much sometimes.

I felt more than saw her nod her head. "Will you play something else for me?"

I nodded and began to play a soft, melancholy tune that I'd been playing with greater frequency. Partly because it was a difficult piece, and partly because it matched my mood.

When I finished, I noticed she was crying softly next to me.

"I'm sorry," I said softly, my arms twitching with the need to reach out and comfort her. But I didn't.

"Me too" she said, getting up abruptly and leaving the room.

I watched her go and continued playing long into the night.

I called Jasper the next day to meet me for coffee. I needed to talk to someone, and no matter his reaction, he had been my friend since we were in diapers and he wouldn't judge me too harshly. I hoped.

But now that he was sitting here with me, coffees ordered and sitting in front of us, I didn't know what to say.

"Come on, man. I know something's been up with you. What is it?"

I ran my hand through my hair and rested my elbow on the table. "Fuck... I don't know what to say."

"Is it that bad?"

"It's just..." I couldn't make myself say the words. Hell, I didn't even know what the words were. So I just blurted it out, hoping he would help me make sense of it. "It's Bella."

His eyes narrowed and he stared at me for a minute before his face relaxed. "Oh, shit. You're kidding me," he said, shaking his head.

"I wish I was."

"Has anything happened?"

"Nah, nothing worth mentioning, anyway. But it's...there, and I don't know what to do about it."

"It's there for who?" he asked, eying me speculatively.

"Fuck, I don't know. I definitely feel it, and sometimes I think she does too."

"Are you sure you're not seeing something that isn't there? You're attracted to her, right?" I gave the barest nod of my head. "I get that, but are you positive she feels the same way about you? I'm not trying to be an asshole here, but this is a big deal and you need to make sure you don't fuck up."

"I know that!" I exclaimed, a frustrated hand in my hair. "That's why I'm here talking to you. It feels so fucking wrong, but it won't go away, no matter how much time I spend hiding."

"So, what? You want to bang her?" he asked, taking a sip from his cup.

My eyes flashed to him and my jaw clenched angrily. He held up his hand and put his cup down. "Whoa, calm down," he said calmly. "You're not exactly being clear. I was just asking."

I relaxed a bit and sat back in my seat, rubbing my hand across my face.

"So what then?"

"I don't know," I groaned.

"But it's more than wanting to fuck her?"

"I don't know," I repeated.

"Dude, I just asked you if you wanted to bang her and you looked at me like you wanted to kill me where I sat. So maybe you don't know, but maybe you do."

I groaned and put my head in my hands.

And then of all things, I heard her voice. I looked up and there she was, standing with a tall blond woman at the counter, ordering a coffee. Regular, milk, no sugar.

Jasper followed my gaze and whistled lowly when he saw her.

"How's that for coincidence," he said, turning back to me, his elbows on the table. "You want to go somewhere else?"

"No. Yes. I don't know," I said, tearing my eyes away from Bella.

"Listen to you. You _are_ confused."

"I told you!"

And that's when Bella noticed me; I felt her gaze on me and looked up quickly. She seemed shaken but when our eyes met she smiled tentatively at me before the blonde occupied her attention.

I looked back down and cursed softly under my breath.

"You have it bad, my friend," Jasper whispered.

"I know."

"Edward?"

I looked up and Bella was standing there with her friend, coffees in their hands. Seeing her here made me feel strangely warm and gave me a pleasant feeling in my stomach.

"Hey, Bella," I said, my face red and my voice barely above a whisper.

"This is my sister, Rosalie. Rosalie, this is Carlisle's son, Edward," she introduced calmly.

"Hey," I said, standing up and putting out my hand. "It's nice to meet you." Standing meant I was closer to Bella and I felt her body tense as I got nearer. As for my body, I think it was as confused as my mind.

"You too, Edward," she said, taking my hand and eyeing me curiously, as if I were an exhibit in a museum. She was very pretty, and her ice blue eyes had a depth that seemed to convey she knew much more than her outward appearance would suggest.

I released her hand and introduced Jasper to Rosalie before sitting back down. "Would you like to join us?" I offered.

"No, thank you," Rosalie said quickly. "I need some alone time with my sister if that's all right with you."

"Of course."

We all said our farewells and they took a table across the room, making me feel Bella's absence immediately.

When I turned back to Jasper, he had a sympathetic look on his face, which just made me feel worse.

"You're fucked. You should have seen your face."

"Fuck, what am I going to do?" I asked, burying my head in my arms.

"Edward?"

"Yeah?"

"You weren't wrong."

"About what?" I asked, lifting my head and looking at him.

"There's something there. For both of you."

"I don't know if that makes me feel better or much, much worse." My stomach hurt and I wanted to lie down. Because as intrigued as I was by what Jasper said, she was still married to my father. So much of me wanted to run over to her and touch her the way I longed to. But the stronger part of me knew that it was wrong and would destroy so many lives and relationships that it would never be worth it.

I just didn't trust that part to stay stronger forever.

"I gotta go, but I'll be out of class in two hours. You want to do something later?"

"Yeah, call me after class," I said, grasping his hand across the table. "And thanks."

"No problem," he said, releasing my hand and standing. "I don't have a good answer for you, dude. Just try to keep this to yourself for now, okay? We'll talk more later."

"Yeah, okay."

I sat there for a few more minutes with my head down before I didn't have the will to not look at her anymore. When I picked up my head, she and her sister were hugging, and Bella looked like she was crying, which made me sit straight up in my seat.

I watched as Rosalie threw a glance my way and then left quickly through the front door.

Bella was alone.

She wiped her cheeks and then without looking in my direction, turned and made her way toward the back of the cafe.

Without thinking about it, I followed her.

She was standing just outside the ladies room, leaning against the wall, her head in her hands.

"Bella?" I asked softly, approaching her slowly.

Her head shot up and she looked at me, her eyes bloodshot and a hopeless look on her face. I didn't know what was making her sad or what to do, I only knew that I had to do something.

"What happened?" I whispered, finally reaching her and putting a tentative hand on her shoulder.

When she looked up at me with huge red rimmed eyes and leaned into me, I took that as my cue. I pulled her gently to me and wrapped my arms around her, and after a brief moment of stiffness, she relaxed into my embrace and began to cry in earnest. It was the first time we really touched and despite wanting to only offer comfort, I was powerless to prevent my body's reaction to her. She was soft and warm and her breath on my neck made me shiver. My heart was pounding, my stomach was doing flip-flops, and I loved how she made me feel.

I wished I knew what was making her so sad, but she wasn't talking so I stood there and held her, kissing the top of her head and running a hand soothingly up and down her back. This comforting thing was new to me, but I found that I liked it, even though Bella was upset. Comforting her made me feel strong and wanted in a way I never had before.

"I'm sorry," she said, pulling away from me and sniffling.

"It's okay," I said, reluctant to take my hands off of her. "What happened?"

"Nothing," she said dismissively.

I arched an eyebrow and the barest hint of a smile graced her pretty face. "Okay, nothing I want to talk about," she said, suddenly serious. "I just...I'm fine, Edward. I'm sorry you had to see this."

"But –"

"Really," she interrupted, her voice as cold as ice. "Thank you. I'll see you at home."

She turned and walked into the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind her.

I stood there for a moment, stunned at the sudden turn of events, before walking slowly from the hallway and out the front door of the coffee shop.

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><p><strong>The fine ladies at the PPSS wrote a lovely review of this story. I'm humbled by their kind words. http :  www . pervpackssmutshack . com/ 2011 /05 / team-angst-is-constantly-changing-team . html?zx=ecf71a3a39140b82 (remove the spaces to follow the link)  
><strong>

**Thanks for sticking with me and for all of your kind reviews.**

**One more chapter to go. It **_**should**_** post on Friday. It's written, but I may get itchy editing fingers – I'll do my best.**


	11. Chapter 11

**I just need to thank a few people again. I wrote this for gemmabobella and LikeToRead22, who won a o/s in last year's FGB auction. This wasn't exactly what they wanted, but they let me run with my idea, and I'm grateful. **

**Thanks to Lucette212 for reading this entire thing over a weekend last year, to LikeToRead22 for being a great support and helping me write her own story, to mycrookedsmile, who has been encouraging all along, but especially today, and to arfalcon, who held my hand through the entire posting process and did a better job of promoting this story than I did.  
><strong>

**I am so, so sorry I didn't get to respond to reviews for the last chapter. I promise to try to do better this last chapter.**

**Speaking of which, I'll shut up now and let you get to it. More rambling at the end.**

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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><p>Jasper and I talked some more but neither one of us had anything productive to offer as a solution to my problem. The only thing that was becoming clear was I needed to seriously consider my mother's offer to move to Chicago.<p>

I thought about Bella almost constantly now, no matter how often I stayed out of the house. Dad was calling me almost daily, on my case to spend more time at home, but I had the excuse of a double course load to keep him off my back. The end of the semester would be here before I knew it and I needed to make some decisions, but I didn't feel ready quite yet. After spending so much time wishing I could make my own choices, when finally faced with something that would alter the course of my life, I was paralyzed. And the person I trusted most in the world was unavailable to me.

On a Wednesday about two weeks after the incident in the coffee shop, classes were canceled because it started to snow unexpectedly; by mid-day, there was almost six inches on the ground. I sat at home and watched the news, fascinated by the freak snowstorm we were having. There were pileups on the highway and accidents all over Seattle, so when Dad called to make sure I made it home, he told me that he wouldn't be home until the next day at the earliest. But that he was insisting Bella come home before it got too bad out.

Deciding to hide up in my room, as was my habit, I didn't realize anything was wrong until hours later when my dad called looking for Bella.

I searched the house for her, but as far as I could tell, she wasn't home.

"She left the hospital almost two hours ago," Dad said, a hint of panic in his voice.

"I should go look for her," I offered, my heart pounding and my stomach twisting in knots. It was a twenty minute trip from Seattle to Bellevue on a normal day. She should have been home by now, even accounting for the weather.

"No!" Dad exclaimed. "I don't need to be worrying about you too. I'm going to call the police. I'll call you back." He hung up the phone without waiting for me to answer. I considered going out and looking for her anyway – I didn't want her out in this alone. But I decided to at least wait to hear from my father again before I ventured out.

I alternated between pacing the floors and staring out the window for the next forty-five minutes until Dad called back. He couldn't get any action from the police department. A state of emergency had been declared in Seattle and the surrounding areas and they didn't have the manpower available to search for one person.

"That's it, I'm going," I said, searching the front hall closet for a pair of shoes suitable for snow.

"Edward, please. I'm worried enough about Bella, I don't need you in danger as well."

"Dad, I can't let–"

My words died in my throat as the front door opened and a soaking wet Bella walked through.

"She's home, Dad."

"What? She is? Put her on!"

"Not now. I'll call you back." I disconnected the call and dropped the phone on the floor. Relief flooded through me that she was alive, but taking in her appearance caused that relief to be short lived. I walked over to her and closed the front door, helping her the rest of the way into the foyer.

She was freezing and soaking wet and she nearly collapsed in my arms. I held her closely for a few minutes and she wound her arms around my neck when I picked her up and brought her upstairs to her room. I sat her gently on the bed and went into the bathroom and started a hot shower.

I went back into the bedroom and knelt in front of her, asking her if she wanted to get in the shower. Her expression was blank and she didn't answer me, but when I started to remove her wet clothes, she didn't protest. When she was stripped down to her underclothes, I stopped and took her hand, leading her to the bathroom door.

"Bella?"

She nodded and looked up at me, moving closer and resting her head on my chest. "I'm so cold," she said, her vice barely above a whisper.

My arms went around her, giving her the warmth she needed and the comfort I craved. As much as I loved having her in my arms, I pulled away after a moment, her needs much more important than mine. "Bella, you have to get in the shower. It will warm you up. I'm going to make you some hot tea. Okay?" I looked down at her, my hand on her face, her expression sad and a little confused.

"Okay," she said, stepping away from me and into the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind her.

I went and changed out of my now wet clothes, called my father, and then put on a kettle for tea. I started a fire in the living room while I waited for the water to boil, and made her a cup of Earl Grey when the pot started to whistle. I brought it into the living room and waited for her. And waited. Just when I was starting to get worried, she came downstairs in a thick white robe, her hair wet and her face contrite.

I stood and went to her, my heart in my throat. "Are you all right?" I asked softly.

She nodded and bit her lip but wouldn't meet my gaze.

"Come and sit, I made you a cup of tea," I said, my voice shaking. "I spoke to Dad. He won't be home until sometime tomorrow, but he wants you to call him if you need anything."

She nodded again and sat on the couch, picking up her tea with a trembling hand and sipping it quietly.

"What happened?" I asked gently, sitting next to her.

"My car finally died," she whispered. "And my cell wasn't charged, so I started walking. I thought I would run into someone on the way and hitch a ride, but the roads were deserted." She closed her eyes briefly. "It was so stupid."

She looked over at me, her expression so sad it made my stomach twist up. "I could have died, Edward. I made a terrible decision and I could have died. I thought about all the things I never got to say...or do. There aren't many things I regret, but here are some," she said softly, cuddling closely to my side.

I didn't know if it was for warmth anymore or just for the contact, but I welcomed it no matter the reason. Before long she moved her hand so it was resting on my chest and her legs were suddenly draped across mine. She moved her hand slowly up my chest and to my neck, finally resting in the hair at the back of my neck.

I was paralyzed; my heart was beating rapidly in my chest and it was becoming difficult to breathe. The feel of her soft hands on me was heaven. I knew it was wrong but there was no way I was capable of asking her to stop.

Soon she was on her knees, straddling my lap, her face inches from mine, her hand tugging at the hair at the back of my neck.

I knew my eyes were wide and surprised, but I couldn't help it. I was in shock.

"Please tell me you feel it too," she said, her tone pleading. "It's not just me, is it?"

"It's not just you," I said softly. "You're...God, Bella..."

"You're so beautiful," she whispered, her lips so close to mine I could feel her words.

When her lips met mine they were warm and soft and eager. One of my hands was on her hip, the other in her hair.

I opened my mouth slightly and we both whimpered when our tongues touched for the first time. My body was on fire. I thought briefly of my father, but quickly put him from my mind. I wanted this and I would deal with the ramifications later. For now, she wanted me to love her and her breath was sweet and the way her lips molded to mine was perfect.

We eventually broke our kiss and our foreheads rested together. She looked me directly in the eye before grabbing the hem of my shirt and pulling it over my head. I undid the belt of her robe and slowly slid it down her shoulders, my hands shaking. The robe fell to her waist and I softly kissed her shoulder, marveling at how soft and perfect her skin was.

Her forehead rested on my shoulder as I continued to kiss her shoulders and neck, my hands traveling from her arms to the outside of her breasts. I ran my thumbs gently over the nipples and she gasped loudly, her hips moving against my rock hard erection.

"Oh God," she said softly, her warm breath washing over my chest, making me shudder.

I moved one of my hands to the back of her head and led her lips to mine. As our tongues met and moved together, her hands blazed a trail of heat across my chest and down to my abdomen. She ran her fingers under the waistband of my pants, moving back and forth, making my muscles clench.

Then she popped the top button of my jeans and I was so turned on that I started shaking.

My head fell back onto the couch, my breathing heavy and my heart pounding. She continued to undo my jeans until all the buttons were open, and she grasped the waistband, pulling them down.

I gasped when my hard cock met the air, and then I stopped breathing when I felt her heat above me. I took a deep breath and the next thing I knew, I was enveloped in her warmth.

"Oh my God," I groaned into her neck, holding her hips tightly. This felt too good. It was my fantasy becoming reality but nothing my mind could have conjured could match this.

Her moan was so deep that I felt it in my toes. She started moving up and down, grasping the hair at the back of my neck, her lips on mine.

"Oh God," she said. "You feel so good."

Her hands rested on my shoulders and her forehead touched mine as she moved herself over me. I was almost paralyzed with how good it felt, my hands resting on her hips, my breathing heavy. I met the thrust of her hips with my own and sought her lips, kissing her softly on the mouth.

I started to feel tight in my groin and I knew I would come soon. But I desperately wanted her to climax first, so I grasped her hips tighter and moved more forcefully inside her. She gasped and moaned loudly, her mouth opening in a silent cry. I moved my thumb and touched her clit, making her throw her head back and dig her nails in my shoulders.

"Oh, Edward," she shouted, her walls clamping around me as she came. I was right behind her, coming so intensely I saw stars behind my eyes.

Her head rested on my shoulder, her hands around my neck; her breathing was labored, her body slick with sweat.

She lifted her head and as she gently toyed with the hair at the back of my head, resting her forehead against mine.

"Tell me again," she whispered. "Please tell me you feel it too."

I tilted my head and pulled back from her slightly so I could look in her eyes. "Of course I do," I said, running a thumb under her big brown eyes. "I think I felt it the minute I met you."

She nodded her head and kissed me softly on the mouth while I tugged at my pants to pull them up. I grabbed her around the waist and picked her up, carrying her up the stairs, our mouths never losing contact.

I laid her on my bed and kissed her softly and slowly, enjoying every inch of her soft curves. I licked her slowly between her legs, the motion of her hips against my face matching my movements exactly. I wanted this feeling to last forever. She was eventually writhing and shaking on the bed, a deep moan coming from her as her orgasm was drawn out.

"Oh my God," she said. "Holy shit...that was...my God, Edward."

I was so hard I couldn't wait to be inside her again. I crawled up her body and positioned myself between her legs, looking for and finding permission to make love to her again.

I very slowly entered her, wanting to relish the feeling of her for as long as possible. I rested my forehead against hers and kissed her softly. "You feel so good," I said against her lips. "I didn't know it could be like this."

She wrapped her legs around my waist and pulled at the back of my hair. "Me either. God, you feel incredible."

I made love to her slowly and when she called my name as she came, I thought I would never hear a more satisfying, beautiful sound.

She shivered under me as we came down from our love making and I remembered she had been through a traumatic experience just a few hours ago. I pulled her close so her head rested against my chest and put a warm blanket around us. She was asleep almost immediately.

I laid there holding her in my arms, part of me feeling warm and content and right, but knowing that it would end here, one way or the other.

If I stayed, I wouldn't be able to stay way from her. We would do this again and again because the pull was too strong and it felt too good. I didn't know if I was in love with her, but even if I wasn't, it wouldn't be long before I was.

She could still save her marriage to my father. She could move on and forget about me and resume her life as if this never happened. She could be the companion my father needed and they could grow old together without me around to interfere.

I had nothing to offer her. I was a nineteen year old kid who was still in college. I wanted to finish my degree and be a musician. What was I going to have her do, support me through school? It was a ridiculous dream. I needed to grow up; life wasn't a fairy tale. She was a grown woman and married to my father. My father, who I'd already hurt with my actions, whether he knew it or not. I couldn't continue to betray him.

My stomach hurt when I thought about leaving my home. But my logical mind knew there was no other solution. There was no good outcome to any of this, so my decision made, I laid there with her for as long as I could, trying to imprint the feel of her on my body and on my mind. I didn't ever want to forget.

She stayed in my arms the entire night and when dawn broke over the horizon, I kissed her softly and called her name.

She sighed sweetly and pressed herself closer to me, mumbling my name in her sleep.

My chest ached, but I had to get her out of here before my father came home, and I had preparations to make.

"Come on, Bella, wake up," I said softly, running my hand gently across the smooth skin of her face and through her hair. "I don't want you to go, but Dad will be home soon." I didn't want to bring up my father, but I needed something to break through the cloud of her sleep.

That did it. She picked up her head, looked at me and smiled softly before her eyes got wide and she realized where she was and who she was with. Her hand flew to her mouth and she sat up. "Oh my God."

"Yeah," I said, sitting up with my elbows on my bent knees.

"I... oh, no."

"Yeah," I said again.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have... oh God. What have we done?"

I got up and put my boxers on, then went to go get her a robe, which she took gratefully.

"I'm leaving," I said softly.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I'm going to go live with my mother."

"Oh."

"I'll tell Dad when he comes home," I said, pulling on a t-shirt.

"I... I have no idea what to say or do right now," she said, sitting on the bed and looking up at me with wide eyes.

"Me either."

"I don't want to drive you away. Carlisle is going to be heartbroken when you leave."

"I can think of something more heartbreaking."

"I'm not sure that's true," she said softly.

"There's really nothing else to say. This is the right thing to do," I said with finality. Because as much as my stomach hurt and my head was pounding and the thought of leaving her made me want to curl up in a ball and cry, there was no choice. We had no future together and she was my father's wife. What we had already done was bad enough. We couldn't allow it to happen again.

She nodded and got up to leave the room, but stopped in the doorway and turned to me.

"I don't..." She closed her eyes and shook her head. "I don't regret it. I want to, but I can't. And I wish things were different."

"Me, too," I said, wanting so badly to just go to her and hug her and kiss her and make love to her just one more time.

Instead, I turned away from her and picked up my phone to call my mother.

**o0o0o0o**

"What happened?" my father asked, clearly bewildered at the fact that I was in my room packing when he came home from work.

"Nothing," I snapped. "I just need to get out of here. My flight is booked for later today. Mom's trying to make arrangements for me to finish out the semester at Northwestern. If she can't finagle it, I'll just take the semester off and start again in the spring."

"Edward, what – I don't understand."

"I know you don't, Dad. But trust me, this is for the best."

She was there, right outside the room, listening to us. But I didn't look at her and she didn't say anything. What could she say? She knew as well as I did that this was the only solution.

"Edward, goddammit. You can't just leave like this!"

"Wanna bet? You fucking watch me," I said angrily. This was too much. I was doing this for him, whether he realized it or not, and here he was pushing me to stay.

I turned from him and started picking books from my shelf and throwing them in a suitcase.

He grabbed my arm and I spun to face him.

"You need to do better than this," he demanded.

"I'm sick of you and your fucking rules, how about that?" I shouted. "Mom will let me do what I want and not get in my way. She won't take the things I want from me and try to make me something I'm not."

He looked hurt and confused; I was helping him, not hurting him, but he would never understand that. So I softened my voice and put my hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry," I said, apologizing for so much more than leaving without a good explanation.

"We can talk about school, Edward. Please, I don't want you to go," he pleaded.

I hadn't felt so close to crying since I was a child. Not only was I a shitty son for doing what I did with Bella, but I was piling lie upon lie and hurting him in ways I never intended. I took a deep breath and choked back my tears, not wanting to break the facade I had created.

"I want to go," I said firmly and convincingly, looking him straight in the eye.

He nodded but the bewildered look on his face remained. "I need to call the hospital to leave orders on a couple of patients, but I'll be ready in half an hour to drive you to the airport," he said dejectedly.

"I can take a cab."

"No. Absolutely not. I'm letting you leave with that shitty explanation, but I _am_ taking you to the airport," he said angrily, turning around and storming out of the room.

I continued to pack with my back to the door, and Bella.

"You don't have to do this," she whispered.

"Of course I do," I said, my voice clipped. "I won't hurt him anymore and I know you don't want to either. This is the only solution." I was keyed up from a sleepless night, too much coffee, and the dread I felt at what was happening to my life. If I allowed myself to stop and think about it, about leaving my home and my father and losing Bella, I didn't think I would be able to function well enough to make it out the door.

"We can...stop."

I laughed bitterly and turned to look at her. "Really?" I asked, moving close to her. "Are you sure?" I dropped my voice and brought my lips to hers, close but not touching. So close...

She whimpered and my breath caught. I turned away and stuffed clothes into my duffel bag, speaking softly. "Even with the best of intentions, you know as well as I do we can't live in the same house and go back to the way things were before last night."

"I know. You're right. I just don't want to be responsible for driving you out of your home and for coming between you and your father."

"It's too late for that. But it's as much my fault as it is yours. Look, don't worry about me. My mom is happy to have me and I'll be fine there. I have some friends and I even met a girl when I was there over the summer."

I heard her breath hitch and a soft sniffle, and I felt like crying myself.

"Please don't cry," I said, my arms dropping to my sides. This was all awful enough without her crying – my nerves were already shot. I just needed to make it out of the house and to my mother's. Short term goals seemed wise.

"Did you say that to hurt me?" she asked, still sniffling.

"I don't know. Maybe," I answered honestly, picking up my bag and throwing some socks in. "But you'll be here with your husband and I won't sit around pining for you."

"I don't expect you to," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

I nodded my head and kept packing. She watched me for another minute before turning and leaving, closing her bedroom door softly behind her.

I didn't see her again before Dad and I left for the airport. He pleaded with me until I passed through security to stay and talk to him, to work out whatever my problem was so I wouldn't leave. But he was met with short answers or stony silence. If I talked to him I was afraid of what I would say. Or confess.

When the plane took off, I allowed some of the tears I had been holding in to fall.

But tears wouldn't change my situation. I was leaving behind everything I'd ever known to protect the man who gave me everything. I had betrayed him in the worst possible way and even though I couldn't go back and change what I'd done, I could give him this.

My happiness for his.

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><p><strong>I'm not generally one for explaining; I prefer the writing to speak for itself. But I'd like to share with you my intent for this story. I'm not a fan of the CarlisleBella pairing – at all. What I wanted to do was give Edward and Bella that overpowering, undeniable (canon) attraction, and put them in a situation where it was virtually impossible for them to act on it. I wanted to explore how they would react, what they would and wouldn't allow themselves to do, what they were willing to sacrifice, and what the moral implications would be if they did decide to give in. **

**So there you have it.**

**I've been asked about a sequel. The truth is I don't know how much more fan fiction I'll write, and this story was always meant to end here. But I'm very attached to these characters and I'd like to see them happy. So the sequel answer is... maybe. I'm sorry I can't do better than that.**

**Thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, and rec'd this story. Maybe I'll see you again.**

**Now go read **_**Dear Mr. Masen**_**. It'll cheer you up.**


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